Only God....

This morning I woke up and laid there thinking, "WOW, how can this be?  It is only our 2nd holiday season without Ryan and yet my heart is looking forward to it with anticipation and not dread."  How can that be?  Only God!
 

I read something yesterday that, once again, put everything into perspective for me.  I say "once again" because God keeps sending me the same message.  When crisis happens we must adjust our life to ACT on our beliefs of God.  When the rubber meets the road in our life those truths that we hung onto are being tested.  For me, on that day after Ryan died a few my truths that were put into questions were:
 

·         God is always present with his children

·         God can be trusted

·         God protects us 24/7

·         God is faithful and will never let us down

·         God makes the right decisions

·         God is good

·         God’s way of doing things is better than mine

·         God has planned a life for me that is good

·         I can trust everything God says in his word

 

On that dreadful day, in my moment of crisis, I had to decide whether my truths were still true or did they only apply when life was going well?  It is similar to the many confident claims we make before we are parents about what we will and will not do and how others should be doing it.  When we finally hit those parental moments our confidence is shaken and we find ourselves doing and saying things we never thought we would.  The difference in this analogy is that when we come to crisis we have the option of holding onto GOD’S TRUTHS, not our own.  These are something worth clinging to; but it is a choice.

 

In my greatest moment of crisis I chose to cling to God’s truths and not run from them.  I simply said, “Show me!  Show me how your Word remains true in my life Lord when what I see doesn’t add up.”   This was a step of faith because Faith is embracing the invisible.  It is the assurance of what we hope for and the evidence of what we don’t see. (Hebrews 11:1).  I was asking God to show me what I didn’t see.

 

So here I am, seventeen months into my journey of grief and headed into my 2^nd holiday season without my son and I have found God faithful.  He has shown me how his Word remains true in my life.  I walk with a joy that could only come from him.  The only other explanation would be that I am a Pollyanna and am just pretending things are fine or that I have dishonored Ryan’s death by pretending it doesn’t matter; these statements are simply not true.  I will probably tear up throughout the holidays, wish he was here and have those stabbing darts hit me now and then; but these pieces of grief will not rob me of the joy that is in my heart.  In fact, these pieces of grief keep me in need of my Savior and will generate more depth of joy because he will meet me in those moments.

 

As I was pulling myself awake this morning and thinking these thoughts I picked up my phone and read of some heart wrenching news about some family and friends; it seems crisis moments live in all of us.  This news popped me out of bed and I couldn’t get to my “quiet place” fast enough.  I needed God to remind me, once again, that he will meet us in these moments:

 

·  He IS always present in the moment; we just have to ask for him and not run away. 

·  He CAN be trusted; we just have to put our trust in him and seek the invisible

·  He DOES protect us 24/7; the protection just might not look like we think it should

·  God IS faithful and will never let us down; we need to embrace the invisible

·  God DOES makes the right decisions; we have to trust his decisions impact more than just our lives

·  God IS good; we have to choose to trust that goodness

·  God’s way of doing things IS better than mine; we have to trust his big picture view

·  God has planned a life for me that IS good; we have to trust that what is before us is refining us for what is ahead

·  I can TRUST EVERYTHING God says in his word; I have to make this choice out of obedience to the relationship

 

Making these choices has allowed me to experience God’s presence in my life like never before; crisis brought me to this place.  Only God.

 

Crisis can either pull you into God or away from him.  Our choices determine the outcome.

 

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess,

for he who promised is faithful. 

Hebrews 10:23

Identity

Who am I?  Who am I becoming?

Recently I was asked how my identity has changed since Ryan died.  Well THAT stopped me in my tracks.  How do I answer that?  What is the truth?  So many thoughts swirled in my mind as I tried to come up with an answer to that question.

I am a woman who has been seared with the pain of the loss of a child.  I am a woman who will forever have a piece of her heart missing.   I am a woman who has had a deep wound, with a scar that is forming.  The question is, how will that scar form and will my identity be wrapped up in the appearance of that scar?

In Romans 14:12 it says, “Each of us will give an account of himself to God.”  I take that verse very seriously; I always have.  When I come to the end of my life and stand in that place of accounting, what will my life account for?

Twenty one years ago God entrusted me with a journey that included the death of a child.  I will one day have to give an account for how I walked that journey.  So when I look at my identity now seventeen months after the death of my child I think asking myself what my identity has become is a good question; there are many options:

·    Gail Wahl is the grieving mom of a child that died.  Poor soul, look at how sad she is.

·    Gail Wahl is a woman who lost her motivation in life when her child died and simply exists to exist. She walks around numb.

·    Gail Wahl is a woman who doesn’t know why her child fell 100 ft and will not stop until she finds the reason.

·    Gail Wahl blames God for the death of her son and feels abandoned by him.  She has lost her faith.

·    Gail Wahl doesn’t understand why her son had to die and is silently angry with God but is attempting to walk a faith road with that hidden anger.  That hidden anger keeps her from really moving forward.

·    Gail Wahl misses her son deeply, but trusts God with the big picture.  She acknowledges her pain and grief, but is not defined by it's ugliness.  Instead, she is known for her faith in her Savior and uses every opportunity to speak of his faithfulness through her pain.

I guess I’m concluding that my identity has changed.  I do have a scar.  It is my own precious scar that God ordained just for me.  Through my choices I will determine whether it will become an ugly scar that turns people away, or a scar that I will keep hidden and buried, or a scar of beauty that draws people into the faithfulness of my Savior.   

Hmmm, I think I will choose a scar of beauty.  What a waste Ryan’s death will be if I do not make this choice.  And, what a waste it would be to not exhibit God’s faithfulness and live out the journey of faith he has set before me.  I will one day have to explain what I did with what I have been given.

My identity is shaped by how my heart has been shaped by the Spirit within me as I journey down my road.

A cup of Mate' Tea with Ry....

This morning I am wishing Ryan would be walking up those stairs so we could sit with my cup of coffee and his cup of Mate' tea and chat about this new passage I found.  He was always good about giving me a different perspective; a perspective free of preconceived ideas.

I love where Ryan and I were going with our relationship before he left us on this earth.  He was just beginning to trust me as a friend and our conversations were becoming more about what God was doing in our lives than what Ryan was doing or not doing with his life; the sweetness of adult living.

But I don't have Ry this morning.  Instead I have his beautiful portrait staring down at me, his Bible, and the essence of who he was.  Some may think that morbid or hanging on to the past, but to me it is a gift from God.  I'm not trying to channel Ryan's spirit, but rather, allow myself to look at scripture with open eyes like he did.  Having these pieces of him around me remind me of who he was and how he lived.  God gave Ry to me to teach me these things.  I do not doubt this and I will not waste the gift of this lesson.

So this morning I look at Ephesians 2:19-22 and ask, "Would this passage excite you Ry like it does me?  Would it give you hope and purpose like it does me?"

Ephesians 2:19-22

The Message (MSG)

^19-22 That’s plain enough, isn’t it? You’re no longer wandering exiles. This kingdom of faith is now your home country. You’re no longer strangers or outsiders. You belong here, with as much right to the name Christian as anyone. God is building a home. He’s using us all—irrespective of how we got here—in what he is building. He used the apostles and prophets for the foundation. Now he’s using you, fitting you in brick by brick, stone by stone, with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone that holds all the parts together. We see it taking shape day after day—a holy temple built by God, all of us built into it, a temple in which God is quite at home.

I am part of what God is building; a holy temple.  I am just one brick or stone, but I am part of it.  The apostles and prophets that went before me laid the foundation and now I am part of the walls being built up from the foundation. I am part of something bigger than myself. That visual excites me.  Ryan was one of those bricks as well.  His life was a strong brick on which the next brick could be fit.  Visually I would like to see my brick stacked on top of his. 

A brick is made from a mixture of clay and water that is hardened by the process of firing that is usually done in a kiln.  We are a moldable clay.  God is our brick maker.  We are shaped by the storms of life and the heat of the fire.  If we run from the storms and run from the fire we are running from that which will make us a solid footing for the next brick.  Imagine a house built from crumbling bricks? 

God's household is not made of crumbling bricks; it is well built, unlike the world around us created by man. He has fit the building together, brick by brick.  The household of God has no reason to fear the collapse of the structure! It is true, individual members may walk out. We must guard against any attitudes or actions that would lead us out of God's house. But we need not fear that this "building" will be destroyed, or that God will misplace us. We can trust our builder. As a Christian, I am not just a guest or occasional visitor - but a permanent member of the family, in a house upheld by His power!

So this morning any sadness that I had over the pain of how my brick has been made firm (the loss of Ry), has been met with joy and excitement:

• I am excited that I am part of a structure that is being fitted for eternity and this gives me hope and not fear.
• I am excited to fellowship with other bricks as we walk through the kiln of life and allow our brick maker to make us firm.
• I find joy in the fact that Ry has been securely fastened so others may build upon his solid brick.

Thank you for letting me share my cup of Mate' with Ryan this morning.  It has been sweet.

The healing journey.......

"I'm healing."  What does that mean anyway?   The whole idea of being "healed" is so ambiguous.  We pray for healing but what are we really asking for? 
 
The definition of healing is: to make healthy, whole, or sound; restore to health;
 
When a person has a physical affliction like disease, or sickness or damage to the body, the idea of being "physically healed" is comforting and longed for. We want our bodies restored to original health.  When one has emotional damage the desire to be healed is to be able to be restored and to forget.  When emotional damage happens because of loss, the healing is much more complicated. 
 
I don't ever want the stabbing pains of missing Ryan to go away.  I have this sense that if it goes away that means I will have forgotten him; I don't ever want to forget him.  The pain reminds me of who he was and the joy he brought to our lives. So, what kind of healing am I looking for?
 
I want to continue to be able to feel the pain of loss and let it settle in and, remember.  The remembering makes me feel closer to him.  But then, the healing piece is me CHOOSING Jesus in that pain and him meeting me on the other side.  This, to me is healing.  It is finding Jesus in the pain and allowing him to strengthen and change me in the process.  I don't want the pain to be what defines me, but the strength that comes out of it.
 
An example of this type of healing happened yesterday.  I woke up with a pit in my stomach and tears brimming in my eyes.  As I sat and read FaceBook posts of perfect, lovely lives of others I got more and more irritated.  I have no idea why this was happening other than the night before I was "doing life" attending high school volleyball and football games and was smacked in the face with many memories of our life with Ryan.  I guess that is a good enough reason to have the rush of pain flow in.  So, I'm sitting there, with a beautiful fall day ahead of me and I was getting sadder and more irritated with each passing minute.  I let a few tears fall, looked up at my son's beautiful portrait and let it all just sink in. Looking at his portrait always makes me shape up because I can hear him telling me he loves me but get off my butt and don't waste the day.  I had a conversation with God about it.  I scolded him, thanked him and then asked him to help me with my day, and then made my move.
 
I took a deep breath and exhaled out the sadness and then hopped out of my chair, washed my face and took my dog for a walk in the beautiful Fall morning...and the trajectory of my day changed.  It ended up being a beautiful Fall day with my family and the spring in my step returned.  I got to spend a little time with Ry in the morning and then spent the rest of the day with the living.  God met me on the other side of my pain and gave me the strength to move forward. 
 
Healing from ANY pain, physical or emotional, can be found by CHOOSING to live in joy with our wounds. That joy comes by turning the pain over to Jesus and allowing him to move us forward.  There is no other way.  Jesus really is the only answer.

O Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me. 

Psalm 30:2

 

You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand. 

Psalm 16:11

Love Fiercely, Hold Loosely......

I sit in the airline seat with my eyes closed and tears slowly escaping.  I wonder if anyone notices the drops of sorrow that come so unexpectedly.  When I closed my eyes I had planned on catching up on lost sleep over the busy week, but instead my ears become heightened to the noise of the chatter around me; two little kids sitting next to their mother.  Her soothing tone and their sweet giggles instantly flash me back to another time, another mom and her two sweet boys. Without warning my mind flashes back to the many flights I flew with my two little ones all those years ago.  I sit wondering if the mother next to me recognizes how precious these memory making moments are and how fast time slips through your hands.  I wonder if she realizes how unimportant it is to control and how important it is to love.

My mind wanders through its’ bank of memories of the times I was given the opportunity to fly alone with my two little boys to visit relatives every summer.  I smile at the memories of layovers, bloody noses, items left on planes, screaming babies, crabby stewardesses, rambunctious boys, no cell phones,  enlisting strangers for help, stress, and of course, the fun of telling the stories afterwards.    I see it all now, opportunities for memories.  I have this keen sense of how the whole of life is just that; opportunities to create memories.

My memory bank of my children is filled with good and bad; way more good than bad, but because I am a flawed human being there are some bad mixed in with the good.   It is interesting to me how most of the bad that comes to mind is when I needed to be in control of the moment and let my anger be the controlling agent.  Oh, how I wish I could redo some of those moments, but I can’t; the past is the past.  I can only correct things for the future.    And, I will always be grateful that I began learning these lessons before it was too late. 

Seven years ago when Ryan was a freshman,  God began to show me how to enjoy Ryan’s uniqueness and see it as a gift and stop trying to change what God had created.  It didn’t happen overnight, but rather, it was a slow progression of enjoyment versus frustration.  Raising Ryan taught me such an invaluable lesson; love fiercely, but hold loosely.  His death was the ultimate lesson in holding loosely.

I sit on this plane with tears seeping through my closed lids and I have a sense of all the strangers surrounding me and wonder how they were loved?  How are they being loved?  Since Ryan left this world I have this intense desire to look into people’s eyes to try and discern what is really there.  My care for them is so much more heightened.

This last week I was in Florida at a conference on Independent Living for youth in foster care.  There were probably 400 or so youth who attended that were either in foster care or had aged out.  I found myself looking into many of their eyes and wondering; what brought you here?  Have you ever felt loved?  Unfortunately, I saw the same haunted look in many of their eyes; the look of pain, hurt, anger and an utter sense of loneliness.  There were those that tried to cover that pain by being loud, or being noticed through their dress or their voice.  There were those that appeared to want to hide through their slumped shoulders and diverted eyes.  But the pain was evident, regardless of their mask of choice.  My heart broke for them and prayed for them as I continued to see them throughout the conference.  Conversely, there were a few youth that stood out and I had to wonder, what made the difference?  Why have they risen above their peers and appear to have made their way above the pain?  I was able to sit on a couple sessions where some of these youth spoke.  Each story was the same.  Each one of these youth that were catapulted into foster care eventually had someone come along side of them that loved them fiercely but held them loosely.  I marvel at the power of love and the power of relationship.  I guess this is why I take my love for the Lord and His love for me and that personal relationship I have with him so seriously; it can move mountains and seriously change the world if we let it.

I am forever a work in progress of learning how to love fiercely, but hold loosely. I want to grasp every opportunity God gives me to love those around me and allow God to shape the memory by being an active, obedient participant.   My tears have dried.  I’m feeling grateful for the family God has given me; Tom, Luke

and Amanda and will continue to love them fiercely and allow God to show me how to hold them loosely so that He can do His beautiful work in them.  I am also grateful for the gift of my job to love on youth that find themselves in foster care and then have no place to go from there.  I find it amazing how the birth of my son Ryan all those years ago and now his death, have been part of God’s preparation for me to understand deeply how I can trust Him enough to love others fiercely, yet hold them loosely into His care.  Only God.

Lead us to the good stuff......

I was in church this morning and I had this overwhelming sense that like my own family, our church family was making its' way out of the tunnel of crisis and pain that they too have been in over the last couple years.  Colorado Springs has had two major fires with lives and homes lost. We have had a number of deaths due to illness, suicide, accidents and even murder. Our church body has been there to help our community navigate through it all.  And yet, during that time there have been a number of changes in staff, some church members have left and there has seemed to be a spirit of restlessness.  Pain and crisis often brings restlessness, impatience and sometimes unforgiveness and blame.  I am grateful to be part of a church whose leadership has stayed the course, done the work, sought the Lord and brought us to a sweeter depth than before.  As I sat in the pews this morning my spirit was filled with a sense of excitement for what is ahead.

My experience in church this morning reminded me that the outcome of pain is worth the work it requires.  God continues to teach me this lesson.  As I live with pain I am continually given the opportunity to choose what I will do with it.  There are days when those around me might be out of sorts, I might feel out of sorts and it seems so much easier to just lash out, walk away, ignore what I am feeling, or not have that difficult conversation.  Yet that momentary "easier choice" really just delays the hard work that is necessary; it prolongs the pain and can cause more pain. 

I cannot really run from the pain, it will  just follow me.  I'm reminded of Jonah who tried to run from where God told him to go.  Remember where he ended up?  In a big slimy whale.  God gathered him up in a slimy whale to get him to STOP his running and LISTEN UP. I don't want to be caught up in a whale because of fear of doing the hard things.  I want to be where He wants me to be even if it is  hard. My experience tells me that this choice brings a sweet depth to my life and depth is what I'm after.

My pain has altered my life.  It will never look the same.  Colorado Springs will never look the same.  But we can still look ahead with excitement to what is ahead.  I trust my God to lead me and my city through the hard stuff and lead us to the good stuff. 

Faith....is it for everyone?

Every day I am confronted with the reality of my Faith.  From day one of my grief journey I have known that my Faith would be the thing that would get me through.  But what is faith and why do I feel my Faith has been so pivotal to my healing?

Faith is a firm belief in something for which there is no proof. Hebrews 11:1 says "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."  Faith is present tense. It is believing right now in something in which we have no proof of or have not yet seen.   On day one of my grief journey, I had never been in that particular position before.  I had never seen God heal my broken heart to the extent it would need healing.  I had never seen God restore my joy to the level it would need restoring.  I had never needed God so desperately to show me why my pain was worth it.  But on that day, on the morning of April 8, the day after Ryan died,  I stepped into a level of faith in which I had never been before.  I didn't just believe or hope that God was going to do something, choosing faith verses crumbling was saying, "It is done!" He wasn't going to be, my faith was saying he already was my rescuer, healer, companion and strength.

What gave me the confidence to do that?  Why did I choose to take that step?

I believe that is where hope comes in.   Hope drives us to faith. Hope is a desire with expectation.  Hope is future tense.  The Hebrew word translated as hope is yachal.  Yachal means to wait expectantly. Don't be impressed with my Hebrew, I looked it up.  I have said before that years ago I shared with one of my sisters that I thought one day I was going to be put into a position to really show the faith and hope that lied within me.  I always hoped (waited expectantly) that when I was tested, my faith would hold its' ground.  I always had the hope that it would.

Since I was young, age 7, my hope has been in the Lord.  Psalm 31:24  "Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the LORD."  It has grown with my age.  I have spent the last 42 years allowing the Lord to shape my hope, a hope in Him.  I look back over the years and see a steady increase of "Moments of Faith" (this is what I fondly call them now), preparing me for the next moment and culminating with this most recent event in my life, Ryan's death. It has been a life of practicing those moments of faith and watching the depth of my faith increase as I made those choices.  These moments have been big and small, but they all led me to the point of decision, will I trust Him?

When Ryan died I was faced with the reality, was Ryan my hope?  Without him, would I be able to continue?  Oh, I adored that boy and absolutely loved being his mom.  I still love being his mom and am grateful I was chosen to walk this road because I had that title "Ryan's mom".  I wouldn't trade this job with anyone, even if I had to do it all over again.  The title comes with much pain but I have learned that my hope was not in Ryan.  My hope was and is in the Lord.  And this is why I think perhaps there are variances in faith.  We exhibit faith based on where our hope is.

It is so easy to put our hope in what we can see; our spouses, our children, our homes, our jobs, our finances, our church, our friends, our health, our safety, our self sufficiency. We cannot say with confidence that any of these options will be found faithful. They all have and will fail us at some point; none will last forever and none will provide that unfailing love for us to rest upon.  "May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you."  Psalm 33:22 

In my 49 years God has never once failed me.  Have I seen pain and suffering?  Yes.  But does that mean He failed?  No.  He has walked me through each moment and I have come out on the other side with a renewed love for Him and for others. He continues to heal my brokenness and show me an unfailing love. So, as much as I love all of the things I've mentioned above and would grieve if many of them left my life, my hope is not in any of them.  My hope is in the Lord and He is the only one that will be found faithful no matter what moment I find myself in. 

I am just like anyone else.  I have no special powers, I have no special gifts.  I am just a woman who has chosen to cultivate a hope in the Lord and because of that my faith has stayed the course and grown deeper with each moment of testing.  Faith is for everyone and we all have access to the same measures of faith, but faith requires choosing it in the moment and not just hoping for it  At some point we have to reach for it and claim it; calling it out, "It is done!"  

I will continue to cultivate my hope by growing in God's Word and feeding my mind and soul with the things of the Lord which will allow me to trust Him in each moment.  If I do not know Him, I cannot trust Him.  I wonder sometimes if Ryan's death was the ultimate defining moment for me or if there will be more? I have no insight into that but I do know that I will continue to wait expectantly for more opportunities for my faith to call out, "It is done!"