Ten Years Ago Today…

Ten years ago today, the view from my kitchen window looked pretty much the same as it does right now. But that day… our world as we knew it, ceased spinning on its axis. Yes… that day… our dear Stephie was taken Home to be with her Lord and Savior. We were called to embark on a journey that no one wanted to take. Our days were filled to overflowing with excruciating pain and questions… many of which are unanswered to this day. As we look back over the years, our memories are crystal clear and painful… and yet wrapped in the loving care and amazing grace of God. Yes, the God we love and serve is perfectly faithful. He has never let us go….

During the months following the loss of Steph, I poured my heart and soul out onto paper… which is often a source of healing for me. Although I’m feeling very vulnerable right now in doing this, I am going to share with you today what I wrote. It is not an easy read…. you may want to grab a tissue. My prayer, though, is that somehow through my struggle to understand a God who passes understanding, you will be drawn to Him. No matter how awful, broken and shattered your life may look right now, Jesus is standing right next to you… longing for you to turn to Him. He speaks words of love to you…. often in a quiet, voice. Yes… at times… He whispers.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

God Whispered

Another morning, another day, a winter day … chilly … “Where’s my coffee?” OK … There we are … Take a sip … check my email … Oh, yeah, I need to write that email … It’s long overdue … Sip coffee … Ponder … Write … Click “Send” at 9:09 AM, December 2nd, 2010 …

There was a knock at the door.

I peeked through the curtain on the door and saw a police officer. Not wanting to greet him in a housecoat, I ran upstairs and rapidly got dressed. I wasn’t overly concerned, due to the fact that living on a dairy farm had taught me that there are many reasons to warrant a visit from the police. My mind was skimming over the possibilities including cows being on the road, a friendly neighborly complaint or just a casual visit.

I raced back down to the kitchen and as I looked out of my window, I saw that the officer was now talking to my husband, Dan, down at the barn. Dan was up on a ladder, the officer looking up at him, and they were having a lengthy discussion, complete with arm signals. Hmmmm … what could be the problem?

Soon the officer climbed back into his car, and slowly approached the house. My cell phone rang. I heard Dan’s trembling voice saying, “Hun, there as been an accident. It’s Stephanie.” My heart pounded as I asked, “How is she?” His voice was breaking… “The policeman doesn’t know. He’s coming to talk to you.” Heart pounding. “Does Jeremy know?” I questioned. He assured me that he had called him.

As the officer approached my door, I remembered that my daughter, Esther, was home that morning and was still in bed. I ran for the stairs and cried out her name, asking her to come down, knowing in my heart that I was going to need the strength of her next to me. She was there in a flash. As he entered the house, questions were pouring out of me, but the man had no answers. Aware that I was a nurse on staff at the hospital where they had taken Steph, he asked me to call the ER, to see if I could glean more information. I agreed to call the hospital, but told him that I had one other call that I had to make first.

With my heart breaking in two, I had to make the most difficult phone call of my life. I called my dear friend, Sally, Steph’s mother. She answered with her usual cheerful, “Good morning!”…. but it was far from good. I told her that I had a police officer at my door, and that Steph had been in an accident. There was a split-second pause, and she said, “The one at Millersport and 78.” Yes, Sally….

A quick call to Millard Fillmore Suburban Hospital’s ER, gave me very brief and guarded information… “She is alive and she has been transferred to ECMC.”

As Esther and I were quickly trying to make ourselves presentable to go to a hospital, Jeremy was driving desperately for home in a semi. His brother, Ben, met him with a pickup so that he could get home faster. Within minutes, Jeremy was at our door, looking pale and frantic, saying that he was leaving for the hospital and he wanted to drive. Esther and I drove with him to ECMC.

As we drove, I received a call from Sally telling me that Steph had been hit by a semi, and that it didn’t look good. I purposefully kept that information from Jeremy, since he was trying to drive us there safely. The trip was difficult … back roads, blocked roads, traffic, sick stomachs, prayers spoken aloud as well as silent and whispered, all the while hanging onto a thread of hope. “Dear God, … please …”

Upon arrival at ECMC, we were ushered into a small visiting room, and were told that we would be given information shortly. We waited. Prayed. Agonized. Questioned. Clung. Wept.

Ken and Sally arrived … hugs, tears … more prayers … more waiting.

Jeremy sat in the little room with me, head in hands, and cried his heart out to his God. “Dear God. I can’t lose her. Please. I’m only 26.” My mother heart screamed in pain.

The next six hours is truly a God-given blur of … “She made it through the surgery” … hope … “Hurry, we want the father, mother and husband to come in .. she doesn’t look good” … despair … more family arriving … weeping … prayers … “she seems to have stabilized” … Hope … “extreme loss of blood”… “has coded four times” … My Dan arrived … So needed his strength … “Trying to find source of blood loss” … Despair … “is she an organ donor?” … What? Why? … Waiting … Doctor laying it on the line … Truth … Awful truth … If she lives she will have extensive brain damage … More tests … Waiting … Is this real or am I in a nightmare? … Losing all hope … Too much pain to form a prayer … The horrific moment … There is no blood flow to the brain … “Dear God, no…” … Hope lost … Searing pain … Jeremy’s head bowed over the broken and bruised body of his sweet wife … weeping … saying “Goodbyes” … trying to sign paperwork through blinding tears … family gathered round her bed … Prayer … the numbing blessedness of shock … organ donation questions … what? Are we really doing this? … Keep moving … everyone trying to comfort each other, while drowning in their own pain … so young … poor Jer … cutting small wisps of Steph’s hair to treasure … I whispered to her, “Steph, I love you so much … I will see you again … I will take care of Jeremy for you … You have been such a wonderful wife to him … I am going to miss you so much …”

The maze of the weeks following her death is one that is very difficult to describe. They were days filled with family and friends arriving from all over the country, a house filled with people who came to comfort and needed to be comforted, time to weep but many times of bottling up my grief in order to deal with the needs at hand. There was funeral to plan, a grief-torn son, a dear friend and her husband who had just lost their only daughter, a need to think clearly when all I wanted to do was not to think. There were hours and hours of greeting, hugging, thanking and weeping at the wake, trying to sleep at night and yet dreading the moment of waking up again … and through it all, trying to keep moving ahead, while my heart was urging me to keep life as it was on December 1st.

Throughout those days, often I would open my Bible. Opening its precious pages, I would ask the Lord to comfort me through a verse or two. Of the of the Psalms that has been a source of strength and reassurance to me over the years is the 91st Psalm. My heart was warmed as my eyes fell on the familiar verses.

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.'” Thank You, Lord. Yes … I need You to be my Refuge and Fortress.

I read on. “Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.” Slowly, I felt chilled fingers wrapping around my heart, and it cried out, “But wait … What happed with Steph? Why couldn’t You save her from the icy patch and deadly semi?” Next verse. “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” What? God, Steph was under Your wings. What happened? Where was her shield? “You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.” Really? We don’t need to fear any source of pain? “A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.” I was shaken to the core of my being. My heart cried out, “But God … It DID come near her. That semi hit her on her right hand side.” My years and years of trust in my Almighty God was being challenged. “You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.” Punishment? What? “If you make the Most High your dwelling — even the Lord, who is my refuge — then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” Dear God … I don’t get it. “No harm?” “No disaster?” “Angels?” “To guard you?” I read on. “They will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” God, where were those angels for our dear Stephanie? Why wasn’t she lifted? “You will tread upon the lion and cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.” No, God … something went wrong … Steph didn’t do the treading and trampling. She was the one trampled. “‘Because he loves me,’ says the Lord, ‘I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.'” Anger was now welling up in my chest, as I wrestled with God. “Because he loves me?” She loved You, God, with her whole being. You will answer? You will deliver? Really? “With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.” Crushed, I closed my Bible. Long life? Twenty-six years is not a long life, God. Not long at all.

There was no comfort for me that morning in Psalm 91. Only questions, pondering, fears, disappointment, betrayal and anger.

Days and nights became an endless movie that I couldn’t seem to turn off. Hours rolled into days, filled with a blend of heart crushing scenes and daily routine activities. Somewhere beneath the shroud of my “stay organized, don’t-stop-moving-or-you-will-drown” exterior, my soul continued to grapple with what had gone wrong with the God of Refuge.

And then God whispered…

The words of Elijah the prophet in the Old Testament describe it so well. “After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.” 1 Kings 19:12

No … I didn’t hear an audible whisper. But He spoke. He spoke to my heart and gave me a glimpse of His heart, a mental picture, that I will treasure for a lifetime.

All of a sudden I saw it … The veil of misunderstanding was pulled back and I wept, as I got a glimpse of the pain that my Heavenly Father went through on December 2nd.

In my mind’s eye, I envisioned a scene where, early on the morning of the accident, the heart of God was weeping. He knew that in a short while He was going to have to stop the angels from doing what they loved to do … protect one of His children. He gathered His angels around Him, and with a voice trembling with compassion, told them that one of His children … a young, beautiful woman … who loved Him with all of her heart, was coming Home. He told them to listen closely for special instructions. As the angels gathered close, he continued on, telling them that as she traveled to work, her car was going to slide into the path of an oncoming truck, and they were not to lift her up. As the angels started to look at each other with concern, the Lord God held up His Hand an said, “I know. I know. It’s not going to be easy for us. But I will stand next to her, and be right there to gather her into my arms. You just need to stay out of the way.” The angels’ heads bowed in submission and grief.

The moment drew near and the angels stood by, swords and shields drawn, just in case their Heavely Master changed His mind. God Himself hovered over the hightway, tears pouring down His omnipotent face, waiting. As Steph’s car rounded the bend, the angels moved in on instinct, but out swung the Almighty, All-powerful, loving Arm of God, and held them at bay. His other Arm reached down … and gathered His sweet child to His chest, whispering, “Come, my dear Stephanie, come Home.”

With tearing streaming down my face, I cried, “Dear Lord, I am so sorry. I had no idea of the pain You went through that day.” He wrapped His Arms of comfort around me … and we cried together.

In Psalm 22 we have the privilege of sharing in the innermost thoughts of Jesus, as He hung on the cross … even though these words were written thousands of years before He lived on earth. Speaking to His Father, He says, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me? Why are You so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? … O my Strength, come quickly to help me. Deliver my life from the sword…” We will never know the excruciating pain that our Lord went through on the cross … and yet we also will never know the pain of the Father, as He turned His face from His Son. For those three hours of darkness, I wonder if God’s Almighty, All-powerful, Loving Arm was holding angels at bay … while Jesus took the punishment for your sins and mine.

Thank You, Lord, for whispering to my heart. Thank you for giving me this little picture in my heart to help me understand your pain. Thank You for constantly loving me, even as I struggled with Your ways. Thank You for carrying me … and for the comfort that You will never let me go. Thank You for the Everlasting Arms, that no matter how low I go, they will always be underneath me. Yes, Lord … Thank You that the same Arms that carried Steph Home, will carry me … until I see her again.

Mother-in-law to Stephanie Jean Verratti