Till We Are Home

This morning a thought came to my mind about this 3^rd year without my little girl. My bride and I are on a getaway in the northern part of Arkansas, the beginning of the Ozarks. It’s beautiful, quiet, peaceful, and a wonderful retreat from the hubbub of our daily life. There are many aspects to this place, even the house, that make us think how lovely it would be to bring our kiddos here: a pathway from the house to the lake through the woods that my little explorers (including the Mrs.) would be all about, the “spinny” chairs in the living room that I know all of my kiddos would be taking turns in, the cool nights with a firepit to roast marshmallows and make s’mores, a bunk-bed “cove” in the hallway, and so much more.

It brings up memories of our last family vacation in Broken Bow, OK. There, we were in a very similar environment with lots of hiking, outdoor activities, firepit, and even the room on the 2^nd floor of the house was just a kid-dom kind of room that all 3 slept in. 

Such sweet memories.

Probably the nostalgia of that trip brought on by the similarities and the imagining at this one primed my mind and thoughts toward my little girl and what once was and what now is not. Year 3 seems to be that for me, at least. 

That first year after losing Isabel was just plain horrible. God redeemed days and times for us, but the pain of that year hits my mind and heart like an unstoppable rebel force…it’s all I can think of when it comes to mind. 

Approaching year 2, we felt a gearing up toward re-entry into the world we left off after her death. There was…well, I wouldn’t call it ‘excitement’ because who could be ‘excited’ about a new chapter of life that doesn’t include a loved one, a child of yours? So, it wasn’t excitement, per se, but maybe anticipation? The Lord had worked in our lives, He was near to our broken hearts, He helped us through year 1. Now, it was time to re-enter. We had been going through biblical counseling for a few months, had some new tools in our toolbelt, redeemed visions for some of those hard memories. Now, bring on year 2. 

Then comes news of the diagnosis for my bride that she has tongue cancer. The next 6 months or so brought on surgery and treatment…so, re-entry wasn’t so much as re-entry as it was survival. How do you mix grief over losing a child with the difficulty of watching your bride battle cancer? 

So, year 2 wasn’t so much of a re-entry at all. And, now that I think and reflect on this, it seems the feelings I’m having now are “delayed” from a certain point of view. Delayed not in God’s economy, for sure, but delayed in the sense that…who gets cancer the year after the death of a child? 

My wife, by God’s grace alone, is doing much better than this time last year. For that, I’m extremely grateful. But, now as I reflect on these emotions and feelings and moods and all that I’m feeling these days, it seems our year 3 is a bit of a re-entry year. And, to me, what I mean by re-entry is “this is my life…a new normal where we are laughing, rejoicing, enjoying bits and bobs of life like anyone normally may do, but we do it with a limp…that limp I wrote about earlier…a limp that points and screams to the fact that we are a man down, a life without our little girl.”

All the joys and moments of life that are real and good are also fraught with the complexity that streams of joy and sorrow flow side-by-side as Tim Challies would put it. Laughing around the dinner table is true laughing, true joy, true goodness…but, then you look around and miss that 5^th chair. Watching your daughter do amazing at her horse show last weekend brings pride and happiness for what she accomplished, but then when it comes to tacking down the horse, you know her sister would be right there brushing the horse down and laughing and goofing around together. Or a getaway vacation that is definitely good and wonderful with my darling bride brings with it thoughts of what could have been if we returned with the rest of our fam, all five of us.

I’m so thankful year 1 is past us. Those are some very, very hard memories. Year 2, for us at least, was such a mixture of grief and survival…I’m glad those days are done, too. But, year 3 is a new mixture of emotions. Re-entry into the world that once was but never will be again is complex…I don’t know how else to say it. But, I’m thankful…really thankful that I serve a God who is immutable, all powerful, and near. Really thankful for the true laughter, true joys, true delights He offers. Really thankful He won’t leave me or forsake me…in year 3 or in whatever year He may bring, if He wills. 

I imagine our days may not always look the same in the sense that there will always be a mix of joy and sorrow to one degree or another. So, whether it’s this re-entry of year 3 or the joy/sorrow mix of future life events, because I serve a God who is immutable, all powerful, and near, I ‘must trust’ all along the way…

Till we are home.