Till We Are Home

How does someone spend the day that marks an anniversary of losing a loved one? It’s a strange day, to say the least. When we lost our daughter three years ago, our world was upended and everything changed. That seems obvious, but even days on the calendar that once were wonderfully joyous without much of a hint of sorrow now were filled with both. Or, innocuous days like the 16^th of June had no real meaning to us. 

The relatively inconsequential day of June 16^th changed drastically those three years ago. When it rolls around these days, it feels heavy and burdensome. We just want to get through the day and move on. I’ll take off work and we’ll usually be together as a family on that day, but as compared to her birthday which we celebrate in a unique and joyful way (though, it, too, shares in heaviness, of course), we do not celebrate the anniversary of her death.

That may seem obvious, but for someone (including our whole family) who likes to try to find redemption in the things we lost, it’s strange to just move on through a day…especially for one that holds so much significance.

So, how did we spend our day? In some ways, we leaned into the sorrow by doing some things that are part of our “new normal”. In some other ways, we distracted ourselves especially around the timing of those events three years ago. In whichever activity that filled our day, the Lord was still very near to us. His Word says that He is near to the brokenhearted and crushed in spirit (Ps 34:18), and His kindness and help were surely evident. 

Here are a few snippets of our day:

• The morning was incredibly difficult and heavy. We woke up with thoughts of our sweet girl, missing her incredibly, and thinking even of what we were doing three years ago in those moments. This was true at times throughout the day, but in the morning, we watched some videos of Isabel. Those videos always remind us of just how alive and full of life she was. The contrast of days now gone and what we now live is startling. “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” (Ps 56:8)
• In our garden, Isabel planted sunflower seeds before she went home to the Lord. By God’s grace, those sunflower seeds re-seed each year in the same area and produce new sunflowers. This year there are a few sunflowers in the patch that have grown and were getting ready to bloom. My wife prayed and asked the Lord to let them open on the 16^th. By God’s grace, two sunflowers bloomed and opened up that morning. It was like they woke up as she did three years ago when my sweet girl awoke in the arms of her Savior. “So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth.” (1 Cor 3:7)
• In the morning, we went to visit Isabel at the cemetery. We cleaned and tidied up the area and her headstone, then sat in some lawn chairs near her grave. We talked about her and spent some time praying together and reading Scripture. This time we also brought a book on grief. We read John Flavel’s Facing Grief: Counsel for Mourners which has some glorious points. Out of the pages we read, this one stood out and comforted us mightily:

“A King from heaven has sent for your friend, and do you grudge at the journey? O think, and think again, what an honour it is to you that Christ has taken them out of your bosom and laid them in his own; stripped them out of those garments you provided, and clothed them in white robes washed in the blood of the Lamb. Let not your hearts be troubled; rather rejoice exceedingly that God made you instruments to replenish heaven and bring forth an heir for the kingdom of God. … When Jacob heard his Joseph was lord of Egypt, he rather wished himself with Joseph than his Joseph with him in wants and straits. So should it be with you. You are yet rolling and tossing upon a tempestuous sea, but your friend is gone into the quiet harbour; desire rather to be there than that he were at sea with you again.” (pp 72-73)

“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope.” (1 Thess 4:13)

• There’s a large rock near our home that sits on a piece of property close to the cemetery where my darling girl is buried. The landowner allows anyone to come out and paint on the rock, which I wrote about here (The Day After). My sweet girls went out to paint a giant yellow heart – yellow hearts have been one of the symbolic reminders of Isabel we’ve held onto since losing her – with Izzy’s name underneath so that when we drive by, we’ll see it and smile. “In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.” (1 John 4:9-11)
• Grief can feel isolating, but we were reminded by several loved ones of their care and support for us. At church the day before, we looked up to see so many wearing yellow, even a sweet little newborn who was dressed in a onesie with bees on it and wearing a yellow bow. Throughout the day we received texts, flowers at home and left at Izzy’s grave, and even some gifts and cards in the mail. From these we felt not so alone…that others do remember and miss Isabel. All of it pointed us back to a loving Father who uses His people to extend His love through. “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” (Gal 6:2)

We ended the night going out to dinner and seeing a movie…we just needed to be away from the house in those latter hours of the day. By the time we hit the bed, we felt a desire just to end the day and be done with it. Though we don’t do anything too special for the anniversary, though we don’t look to redeem it in any special way…maybe…maybe the Lord still does. In the reminders above and others, maybe the Lord shows up and provides us with redemptive parts of the day to show that though we may be done with the day…He’s not.

Even in our darkest of days, or the annual reminder of them, God proves He’s not done with us. He will keep bearing our burdens and redeeming our losses…

Till we are home…