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An amazing “AHA” moment

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bulb can be found at www.nostalgicbulbs.com

bulb can be found at www.nostalgicbulbs.com

I had one of those “Aha” moments yesterday.  It was truly a game changer for me.  As a scientist, I’ve always loved the story of Archimedes jumping out of the bathwater when he discovered the method to prove that the king’s crown was truly gold.  Although it is rumored he yelled, “Eureka”, that is my favorite historical “Aha” moment.  As a teacher, I have always enjoyed the times when I saw the light bulb turn on for a student.  It’s that moment when you get a glimpse into a student taking knowledge and making it their own.  Bringing big smiles to me, those moments are priceless.

My epiphany yesterday came about in an unexpected way.  I needed to travel for a business meeting, and my ministry partner who was to travel with me was needed to care for her mom.  Utilizing the best network of friends I have, I posted on Facebook asking if anyone was free for a quick trip to Sioux Falls.  Luckily for me, a friend and her little boy (whom I lovingly call Turnip) were free and up for a road trip.

I have known this friend for more than a year, but we’ve never had this kind of just the two of us time together before.  I was looking forward to it, and I was so thankful for the company.  Turnip isn’t a bad companion either.  He rode along as a little trooper in his car seat.  I will never turn down an opportunity to snuggle with him – ever!

As the day progressed, we spent our travel time just swapping stories and getting to know each other better.  Turns out, we have a lot in common.  She probably discovered what most of my friends do – I have a story about everything!  At some point, we were sharing some pretty amazing stories of how God has handled things in our life.  I don’t really know how it happened, but she was telling of an amazing opportunity of when God had put her in a place to truly bless some strangers.

As she was telling her story, it was almost as if God dropped some knowledge on that mini-van that went straight to my heart.  Sometimes, I just need to get out of my own way.  That seems theoretically impossible, but what I mean is that sometimes, I let MY plans, MY worries, MY fears, and MY failures, get in the way of God’s.  I really get bent out of shape if MY plans go awry.

Listening to her story, I realized that every single time that MY plans didn’t, well, go as planned. God had either set me up to be blessed more or placed me to bless someone else.  That knowledge was a humbling game changer.  I thought about how God had lovingly given me a new set of skills for the next plan that falls apart.  I need to adjust my horizon by praying, “Okay God! I don’t know what’s coming but I’m ready to be blessed or to bless someone.  And I’m listening.”

When that light bulb went on in my head, I am fairly certain that the Ultimate Teacher smiled. 

The thing about grief . . . Part 9

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random acts of kindness

This will be the final installment, at least for a while, in the grief series.  I have shared that, indeed, you will laugh again even as you encounter the “firsts” without your loved one as well as some of the ugly sides of grief.  But today’s thoughts come from a happier place known only by select handful.

Throughout this journey even though some days it feels contrary to reality, we have never been alone.  The obvious reason is that our precious boy, Reed, didn’t die alone.  He was one of four beautiful children killed that frigid February day.  But that isn’t the isolation about which I am referring.  While existing, exhausted with a big hole in your heart, you feel as if there is no one who cares or understands what you are going through.  Definitely, not true!

So many came alongside our family and reached out in big and small ways.  They gave gifts of  forgotten stories, meals, and hugs.  Family, friends, and strangers have come to our home and served us, offering help when the tasks were just too much for us.  There have been e-mails, texts, letters, cards, and posts of encouragement.  All of these have become precious pearls of memories for each of us.

Each token was worth more the item itself as it was the embodiment of hope. Too many to enumerate have become some of my most loved things.  Of all the gifts that given, there is one that sticks out as quite possible the most unique.  A stranger, whom we have never met, gave sacrificially every day for two years, in what has become one of the greatest gifts of my life.

Shortly after arriving home from the hospital there was a small notecard outlining her covenant with our family.  In the handwritten card, she explained, years before, she had lost several family members in a tragic accident.  She knew the isolation, despair, and challenges of grief intimately.  Our earthly angel also knew the power of prayer – as that had pulled her through the darkest days.  (I have to imagine that she too had a wonderfully supportive community.)  Her covenant with our family was to pray for us every day for two years.  She also must have experienced the same phenomena that the first year was hard, but that the second year was harder. I don’t really know her reasoning but she prayed us right on through that second year as well.

We didn’t hear from her daily, but every once in a while came a letter with a reminder that she was living up to her end of the arrangement.  Her notes would arrive, and once again, we were bolstered by the devotion and commitment of a complete stranger.  Because she gave this gift without the need for recognition, I am choosing to keep her identity private.

Her love and random daily act of kindness have been in my heart ever since the first note arrived.  Her thoughtfulness was the first thing that popped into my mind when I first learned of the #26acts movement started by newswoman, Ann Curry as a way to honor the victims of the Newtown tragedy.  It took me a long time to be able to even look at those sweet babies and brave adults, but when I did I knew Ann was right.  One great way to help a community heal from such evil was to be purposeful in being kind and thoughtful.

My family continues our philosophy of service by quietly completing our own 26 acts.  In a strange turn of events, we were, once again, the recipients of someone’s kindness when I received a glitter-filled handwritten Bible verse from an anonymous encourager. It made my day! While I have been thinking of others, someone was thinking of us.

It was at that moment that I knew how God wanted me to end this series of writings.  The truth is that there are many people who tell you in the early days of grief that if you need anything just call.  Well intentioned, yes. Practical, not really! Honestly, I didn’t even know my own name in those mind-numbing first moments.  Yet, I still had to be a mom and a wife, running a grieving household while taking care of injured children.  At that point, we could have eaten pocket lint, and it would have been fine by me.  I literally had no energy left to think of calling anyone, let alone to ask for help.

To truly help someone who is grieving, don’t wait for them to call you.  Call them and ask if you can watch the kids, get the groceries, walk the dog. Get creative! It is like the old Nike ads. Do Something! Anything that is a gift of time and service is usually helpful.  But if you can’t, for whatever reason, give chunks of your time, can you send a note of encouragement?  Can you pray? Even better, can you send those notes timed to first events the grieving family might be experiencing? Can you make a long term commitment to loving and encouraging someone who really needs your help? If experience is any teacher, the giver is the one far more blessed than the receiver -even when it comes to grieving folks.

What an incredible world it would be if every grieving family had an earthly angel just like us! I, for one, will be following her example, and that alone will be a blessing.

 

The thing about grief . . . Part 1

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Drawing Copyrighted property of Reed's Run

Drawing Copyrighted property of Reed’s Run

There was a momentary pause in my writings in December.  I had originally intended to write one more blog in “The Long Road Home” series.  Then came December 14, 2012. At our house it was Clo’s 8th birthday, but for the rest of the world it will be remembered as the day that beautiful souls entered into heaven as a result of the Newtown tragedy.

Around lunchtime, I learned of a school shooting via text message. Thankfully, I didn’t learn any real details until well into the evening.  For my birthday girl’s sake, I am glad that I didn’t.  The first thing I learned was parents were waiting at a local fire hall waiting for word about their sweet babies.

Those words were all it took to push a button on a trap door in my living room floor that led to an avalanche of grief.  No matter how tightly I gripped and clawed to the edge of reality, I was sucked into a vortex of emotions.  Instantaneously, I was transported back to the night of my darkest nightmare when I was the last mom left in the school’s Media Center on February 19, 2008 – waiting, waiting, prayerfully waiting to find out where Reed was.

I collapsed into the nearest chair and sobbed.  I bawled for Reed, (and for Jesse, Emilee, and Hunter), for the dreams gone, for the children lost at Newtown, but mostly my heart ached for those parents still awaiting word.  This is one cup that I desperately wished had passed me, but sadly, I knew what is was like to walk in those parents shoes.

That trap door to my emotions spiraled out of control.  For days I was locked inside an emotional coma. I didn’t eat, sleep, or do anything well.  If I caught a glimpse on television or internet, I sank deeper into the bottomless pit of grief. Caught in the rip current and frantically swimming parallel to the shore of my life, I wasn’t getting out of it.  Inevitably, I unplugged – literally and figuratively.

Eventually, I did have to reconnect, and when I did I discovered several e-mails affirming that I wasn’t going crazy.  All were from trusted grief professionals providing comfort with the same message.  When challenged with something as senseless as losing a child in an unforeseen way, the brain tends to fracture all the emotions at the time of tragedy, hiding them in the deepest, darkest recesses of gray matter.  It is a coping mechanism.  All seems fine and then, (WHAM!), out of nowhere a switch flips – which is like your brain playing a colossal game of Hide-N-Seek – finding that splintered memory.

The messages were soothing, yes, helping me to find my footing again. But for the record, I hate that my brain still has slivers that I am inevitably going to encounter someday.  I hate that for someone who usually remains composed and logical, that grief, at times, is bigger than rational thinking and even normal body rhythms. Disheartened, I know there will always be another tragedy, because after all this isn’t heaven.

During the deepest part of my emotional coma, my husband found me one day – crying and rocking, rocking and crying.  I spoke about how I wanted to rush out to Connecticut just to rock and cry with the parents who babies hands they no longer held. I blathered on about the why and the how, when his gentle hand rested on my own.  In his own grief, he pleaded with me to stop trying to make sense of the senseless.

That’s when it really penetrated my heart (and my brain) that the place I needed to be wasn’t relying on myself or standing on my feet.  The place of healing was on my knees, asking God to fill up the hurt places in my heart and soul as well as in the hearts of anyone else, anywhere in the world, touched by tragedy.  Slowly over the coming days, the fog lifted, and I swam out of that rip current of dark grief.  Battle worn and weary, I knew that my prayers were answered.  I still don’t like my battle scars proclaiming “how I got here”, but I know my journey has created in me a new heart – one that honestly knows that I – without God – wouldn’t have survived any of it.

1 day to go: “Pray”-paring

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We love birds in our family; so much so that we raise homing pigeons.  They are amazing birds with incredible speed and gentleness.  The birds serve as FFA and 4-H projects, a business for our kids, and just plain enjoyment.  Business with pigeons? You might ask with a skeptical look.  Well, the white birds are used for releases for weddings, funerals, and other special events.  (A little known “trade secret” – doves are not used in dove releases.  White pigeons are used for ethical reasons, mainly because they know how to make it home.)

When the kids have a job, we perform practice releases the week before to give the birds (okay really ourselves) the reassurance that they know the way.  Pigeons are really smart birds, and they don’t really need this step.  But we love doing the releases.  I can drive highway speeds back to our house, and those birds beat me back.  So they are also incredibly fast flyers.

Recently, we did a very special release at a benefit for a dear friend.  We did a final practice run the day before the event.  My gut told me that something was wrong.  Incredibly wrong.  When I arrived home, the birds were not there.  One hour later, no birds.  Three hours later, no birds. Oh no, this release is so important!  What in the world should we do?  I did what any momma would do in this predicament.  I hit my knees.  I knew that God knew where those birds were, and I knew that His word says that if He cares for the birds, why would he not care for my kids (and their birds).

In reality, I knew that God was the only One who could grant my children success.  They had done all the proper things with husbandry of pigeons.  They had cared, fed, nurtured, watered, bathed, vaccinated, and trained those birds.  There was nothing left that they could humanly do.  Seven hours later after much prayer and hand-wringing, most of the birds made it home.  We just had to place them in God’s hands and know that they would be safe there.

The same can be said of Reed’s Run.  I think we have checked and triple-checked the list. Honestly, our living room has been Command Central for months now.  We have prayed, planned, prayed some more, checked lists, wrote letters, mailed postcards, ordered supplies, updated websites, and prayed again.  But in the end, we rely on God’s faithfulness to make this last Reed’s Run a success.

Stealing one from my cousin-in-law and sister in Christ, all my “pray”-paring hinges on my belief that God will grant us our heart’s desire.  Just like Nehemiah, I humbly ask “Give your servant success today.”  (1:11 NIV)

Please join us in a day of prayer that God grants us our heart’s desire for a successful run and for the opportunity to share His love with others. If God is for us, then nothing else really matters!

25 days to go: Family Movie Night

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If you had called my house five years ago on a Friday afternoon and asked what we were up to for the weekend, your answer would have been that I was going to keep all the “chickens in the coop” to just hang out as a family.  Our favorite way to do that is to make a great snack and have movie night.  We would often retreat to the basement and pretend the rest of the world didn’t know where we were holed up.  In our perfect cocoon, we have laughed, cried, and laughed until we cried over some of our favorite movies.  We have revisited favorites from mine and Daniel’s past, as well as introduced our kids to some of the classics (think 12 Angry Men or To Kill a Mockingbird).

 

While cuddling up under blankets, kids, cats and of course, dogs is comforting, the best part is really the memories we have made doing that.  Sometimes we have opened up our sanctuary for a friend or two, but that isn’t typical.  Last year following a varsity football game, we did just that.  We went all over town until we finally found a movie that we had wanted to see for a long time.  That movie was The 5th Quarter.  If you haven’t seen it, it reminded us so much of ourselves and it brought to the surface so much hurt and healing that we all bawled.  Our friend “G” simply held our hands.  He knew that it was hard for us to revisit but the message was worth it.

 

That is how it goes with really good movies (or books).  The message they carry can transform your life if you allow it to your heart and soul.  (Not all movies do that for us, but sometimes a movie comes along that blows your socks off.)  So it was with this year’s movie choice for Reed’s Run.

 

We had heard a little bit about this movie in 2006, and we went to great lengths to get it.  We had it on our Netflix queue for months.  Finally it was in.  Reed was in the 6th grade when it arrived in the mail.  There are several powerful scenes in the movie (which I won’t give away), but the one that I poignantly remember is the one where an older gentleman is walking down the hallway praying for each kid’s locker.  All was quiet in the basement, when out of nowhere Reed bolted up from the floor yelling, “NO WAY!”  I was so startled by his reaction that I sent a whole bowl of popcorn flying.  After regrouping my sensibilities, I asked Reed what in the world was wrong with him.  In typical Reed fashion, he simply said, “I thought I was the only one who did that.” Did what? Walk in the hallway? He explained, and suddenly the popcorn on the floor didn’t seem so important.  “I thought I was the only one who walked by a bank of lockers and prayed for each one, Mom.”

 

Did my sweet little boy really just say what I thought he did?  A quick look around the room confirmed that he did because everyone in the room sat there mouth agape looking at our redhead.  Yes, movies do change your life.

 

The movie choice for this year’s Reed’s Run has been prayed and talked about since last year’s movie.  While Star Wars will always be a Reed favorite, this movie shares more about Reed and his life motto – “Faith, Family & Football” than any other.  Reed LOVED this movie!  If you aren’t familiar with the film, there is a trailer on our website (www.reedsrun.com), and it is from the same group that made the movies Fireproof and Courageous. If you are familiar, this is definitely one worth watching again.

 

The movie will start on 9/29 at roughly 8:00 pm.    It is advised to bring your own chairs and blankets.  Refreshments will be available as a fundraiser for the Lakeview Football Family.