December 29, 2011 -- Who Am I?

Grief  is a strange companion.

You never know when he will show up or what will be his weapon of choice at any given moment.
The other day, I was working on cataloging the video that we were able to shoot while in Brazil in Algodao de Jandaira.
It was an amazing privilege to be there and to speak at the dedication of a memorial to the Bible, to commemorate what God has done in this desert community. The transformation of this community is the theme of the book I wrote about Algodao de Jandaira, called When God Transforms the Desert.

If you would like a copy, email me at steveloopstra@gmail.com with the number you want and a shipping address.

Well, part of the footage I reviewed was of my visit to the mountain top at Algodao where I put a picture of Marilou and myself in the crevice of the rocks there and spread her ashes across the top of the mountain. As I watched the footage, I looked at the person on the screen in front of me, and thought.... "who is that?"
 that old man...

"Who am I?"  I'm not sure I even know myself anymore. There are those times (it's been a while) when on the inside I feel young and full of enthusiasm, but then I see a picture of myself and it almost hurts. And now that I am alone, it is even more of a question... "Who am I?"

I know all the "spiritual" and "psychological" answers, but the reality is, I have begun a quest to figure out who I am now. Who am I to be? I don't think I realized, and I don't think even Marilou ever realized how much of my identity was wrapped up in who we were together. It's the kind of thing where you don't realize what it is like until it's gone.

This is a question that is not answered by zippy little phrases. This is a question that comes from the very core of the being... it challenges trite and simple answers. It's the kind of question you ask when you look yourself in the mirror and you're not sure you recognize that person anymore. It's the kind of question you ask when you don't remember how you got to where you are. And you are not sure where you are going. I have a whole list of things from the Bible that I have studied in these last months about who I want to be. But this question of "Who Am I?" is deep, it searches past the trivial and surface existence in which we live most of our lives. "Who the heck am I, anyway?"

I guess that is part of the adventure that I am on with my "Daddy" now. Maybe a combination of finding out who He made me to be in this chapter of my life, and "reinventing" myself... into what, I'm not sure right now.
 I have a cold now, with cough and aches, so I suppose that adds to my vulnerability  to these kinds of questions. And it's always weird watching yourself on video. But it is still a challenging question, after 63 years, trying to figure out who I am!!!  What does it mean to me now, to live alone? Should I, do I want to, stay that way?

I guess that's part of the "adventure," right? Otherwise if would be called something other than an "adventure."  I wonder who I will turn out to be? Today, I feel pretty vulnerable. It just seems to weird talking about this at my age. But no matter what, I do want to finish strong. I want to point people to our Great God. I want to be faithful. I want to be like Caleb who conquered his mountain in the last season of his life.

As I enter into a New Year, maybe as never before, the question looms before me..."Who Am I?"  The answer will follow...

...till later...

December 22, 2011 -- "Turning a Page"

I made it back from Brazil on the 20th of December... still recovering from the travels, but this was a hugely significant trip. I think we all knew it would be, but I find it was very cathartic for me...

The first part of the trip was busy with speaking and traveling...plane flights and six hour bus rides.

It was a great honor  ... it always is... to speak at some of these events... a citywide rally for "The Day of the Bible," That morning they had over 200 cars in a parade through town.








The dedication of a monument at the entrance to the city of Algodao de Jandaira. I was so glad to have the book, "When God Transforms the Desert" to be able to present to them. That was one of the reasons for the trip. As soon as I heard they were doing this, it was on my calendar and the book process (with a few interruptions) was finally completed.

But the other main reason for my trip was to visit the sites on the prayer mountains where Marilou and I were in July of 2010. What God did in her life in those days, I would only discover when she was in the depths of her last days on this earth, and she would tell me how much she wanted more of His presence. I knew that trip had been of eternal significance. So returning was vital. We had agreed on it before she passed away.

The first stop was in Belo Horizonte. Pastor Ronaldo Cota and his wife Elaine picked me up from the airport and we went directly there... to the prayer mountain. It could not have been more perfect. The picture I brought was of Marilou and I there at sunset after spending most of the day. Now, a year and a  half later, we arrived in late afternoon, moving toward sunset. The hill itself is a lot of bare rock and dirt, and not many places to bury the picture, but at the edge of some grass I found a spot. I dug with a rock, buried the picture and covered it with ashes, and sobbed... the memories flooding my mind of our time there together with Him. Now to make her a permanent part of that place of 24/7 prayer was profound.

As I packed the soil down, the clouds overhead and rain in the distance. I asked the Lord if He might send the rain to settle the ground. As we headed down the mountain, the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled and it began to rain. I sent  up a short, "Thank you, Father," and we headed to their home in Sabara where we had stayed. I gave them a magnet Esther had made and a copy of the memorial service bulletin.

The next day we drove up to the mountain there in Sabara. This is where we had pitched the tent, and I had a picture of her sitting in the door of the tent singing to the Lord. I dug a hole about where the tent was, and added a small purple flower I had picked on the way up. Again, the tears flowed as I thought back to those days we spent there, and her diary entry about the birds and her desire to fly free.

Elaine remembered that Marilou told her that she like butterflies. And as the Lord knows all these things... as we were getting ready to leave.... a lone butterfly flittered right in front of me as if to make sure I saw it. And the birds that had been absent the whole time we were there, now appeared and glided on the updrafts coming up the sides of the hill. Another little personal touch from a loving Heavenly Father. Thank you, Lord.

That same afternoon I caught a flight to Joao Pessoa, a three and a half hour plane ride North East of Belo Horizonte. My good friends there, Marcio and Claudia Chaves and their daughter Carol accompanied me to the beach where Marilou and I stayed that July in 2010. It was the place where I took a picture of our feet together in the surf and then got bowled over by a wave and my phone got drowned... Marilou was screaming... it was quite a funny experience. Now, I took a picture of just my feet there. I dug a hole in the wet sand, and as I mixed the ashes in the hole,

Claudia and Carol prayed for me in the distance. I later went back to look at that place, and the surf had washed her picture out to sea... so fitting since she loved the ocean... now that laminated picture is floating somewhere off the coast of Brazil.



The last stop was the mountain top in Algodao de Jandaira. The place really that started all of this. A group from Algodao accompanied me to the top of the mountain, and there I found a deep crevice in the rock and pour and scattered her ashes from the top of the mountain. They sang and prayed. A fitting end to my mission.

It was such a joy to be able to present to them the copy of my book, "When God Transforms the Desert." It was after all, their story, and the memorial at the entrance to town is now there to give testimony to the fact. And there, in those days I had a very strong inner conviction that a page had been turned. A new chapter was now beginning in my life. It is not that I do not still weep and miss her. I cried just this morning and told her that I missed her. It is that now, this is a new chapter, a new adventure. Sunday night after preaching twice in the First Baptist Church of Valentina, I lay on the bed in Marcio and Claudia's home. As I closed my eyes, a very clear picture appeared. Not like a photo, but like a line drawing in blue pencil. It was of a motorcycle and side car. An adult male with a helmet on was sitting on the motorcycle, and a young boy, also with his helmet on, was sitting in the side car. Both had big grins on their faces as if they were really enjoying the ride. I knew immediately this was a picture for me of my "Daddy" and me as we set out on this new adventure together. Since then, whenever something new or challenging comes along, I see that little boy grinning from ear to ear, and I know whatever comes my way, it's part of my "Daddy's" adventure He has for me.

Turning a page can be such a simple thing, but it can take you from one chapter to the next, and as you begin the new chapter, you wonder what you will find as you move ahead. What will be part of my new adventure? I have not a clue, but I know my "Daddy" is driving, so I can enjoy the ride... Turning a page, can be quite an adventure itself.

...more next time

November 27, 2011 - Unbidden at 36.000 Feet

Unbidden at 36,000 Feet

The interesting fact about grief is that it is always with you and often can come bubbling to the surface unbidden at the most inconvenient times. It’s not always predictable as to how and when the tears might come, forcing you to deal as best you can, and for some reason, sometimes in public arenas.

I am actually writing this segment sitting in a Delta flight from Detroit to Seattle. It might seem a bit strange, but such is the “beast” with which I have to deal. OK, so a little background would help.

I flew out to Ohio to be with family for the Thanksgiving holiday. It was a combination of visiting with “our” son, Jonathan and his wife, Carol in Cleveland. For the past two years they have been oversees, so this was the first opportunity to visit them on their turf. It was good to see their home, and Jonathan’s office at Capitol University. I wrote a little of that in the last entry about the movie, The Way. The other part of the visit was to go to Cleveland and meet Esther’s husband, Tony’s family. They put on a big “Italian” get together to celebrate Esther and Tony’s marriage. He has a wonderful family and it was a fun time, although, right in the middle of all the festivities, I was spending some time out on the porch to quietly bawl a little, just thinking how much I missed Marilou being able to be a part of the festivities, thinking how much she would enjoy it. Even had a few tears gushing as I talked with Esther, which really made me upset with myself. I so didn’t want to spoil things for her.

The whole thing was wonderful, and we had a good time. All of it was interspersed with those times of unbidden tears. Never knowing what things might be the trigger, but trying to be watchful so that when it happens I could turn and look away, or walk a distance long enough to compose myself, and re-join the group.

But here I was in the plane in seat 22F, looking out the window and thinking about the fact that a few days from now I will again be on a plane heading to Brazil. Thinking at the same time of the trip in July of 2010 when Marilou and I were on a plane headed to Brazil.  While the music is playing in my headphones, my thoughts wandered their way to the times not too long from now when I will again visit those places where Marilou and I prayed together. 

The beach in Joao Pessoa where I took a picture of the surf washing over our two sets of feet. That was just before I fell, a wave swept over me, Marilou was screaming and the camera drowned. I laughed as in my headphones played the 60’s song, “wipeout.” Then I cried, with my face turned to look out the window as I thought of scattering her ashes on that beach, maybe putting a picture of our feet in the sand there.

Just before that fateful fall!!!

My thoughts went to when I will again visit Sabara and the dear family of Pastor Rolaldo Cota who hosted Marilou and I last July as we pitched a tent and prayed on top of the mountain. I cried again when I thought of putting a picture of her on that mountain top, and spreading her ashes where we had prayed. 

It was hard to keep my face glued toward the window,, because the tears were streaming down my cheeks by now. I thought about being on the mountain top in Algodao de Jandaira where again, we prayed together. By now my cheeks are wet with  tears, I’m trying to wipe my eyes without being too obvious.  Tears streaming unbidden from my eyes as music plays in my ears. Songs like, All I need I Already Have. And then, Somewhere over Eastern South Dakota, flying at 36,000 feet, with tears and running nose, comes the song into my headphones, “Oh the wonderful cross.” And at that very moment, down below… some unknown little town with the street lights lit up, and two lines of amber colored lights, you guessed it, in the form of a cross.

Oh man! Sometimes it’s more than I can handle already, Lord, and then you zap me with one of those little, “Yes, I know, I’m holding you.” Type reminders.  So here I am, typing this into my computer with tear-brimmed eyes, hoping that the guy in the other seat keeps his attention on the movie he  is watching and doesn’t notice the watery glint in my eyes.

Yep, the tears come at the craziest times. But again, I have to say that there are many times when the tears are ones of just overwhelming love and thankfulness to the Lord. I know He is holding me. I know He has a plan for me in all of this. And even that in itself is enough to bring more of the unbidden flood of tears.  It is my custom now, each morning as I rise and each evening before I get into bed, to kneel beside the bed in prayer. Many of those times, the tears flow as I simply say, “Abba, I love you! Jesus, I love you!” Holy Spirit, I love you!”  In some ways, that’s the part of this that I wouldn’t mind if it never lessens. That deep, deep, overwhelming love and gratefulness to the Lord for His love for His mercy. For the gift of having Marilou a part of my life. Yes, pappa, I love you, so much.

…till next time.

November 23, 2011Nitty Gritty Reminders

I'm here in Columbus, Ohio with my son, Jonathan, his dear wife Carol, and my mother who flew in from St. Louis. Enjoying having time together... It's a special treat to spend this holiday together.

This is one of those firsts. The first Thanksgiving holiday in Forty Years where Marilou and I are not together. The first Thanksgiving of being a "widower." The first Thanksgiving where I don't have this all to share with her.

And then there were those nitty gritty reminders, like the movie we saw today. It is a good movie. It is "THE WAY by Emilio Estevez. It's about a successful Ophthalmologist whose son dies in a terrible accident in the mountains of France as he was just beginning a pilgrimage on a route from France to Northern Spain. Martin Sheen, as the father, has his sons remains cremated, and decides to finish the pilgrimage his son had started. All along the trek, he has the ashes of his son, and stops at certain points and spreads the ashes, finally ending at the sea, where he empties the plastic bag of ashes into the sea.
There were a couple times I thought of almost walking out.... it was a good movie, I would recommend it, but every time Martin Sheen, as the father, placed or flung those ashes of his son, my mind went to my task now just two weeks away. And imagining how I will feel as I travel to Brazil where Marilou and I spend July of 2010, on prayer mountains in Brazil seeking the presence and face of God. I pictured and wondered how I will feel when I stand on that hill in Sabara, where we pitched that prayer tent and spent two different days on the hill in prayer and worship. How will I feel? How will I do it? I don't have a plan, I'm just going to do it...somehow.  How will it be when I stand on top of that mountain in Algodao de Jandaira, and throw her ashes to the wind in the spot where we stood. The place where in 2008, I was on my knees being prayed for by these dear Brazilian brothers and sisters.
How will I feel when I go to the beach in Joao Pessao and walk on the beach where my camera was drowned and I scatter her ashes to the sea... how will it be?



The nitty gritty reminders are those sand in your teeth kind of real elements of life that remind you that something is different about you now. YOU ARE ALONE.

Yea, I know... I'm not really alone, I have God, I have family. Absolutely, Absolutely!!!! Amen and Amen, ...  BUT.... there is a sense that I am still alone. No one else in that theater knew the stinging pain that was coursing through my body as I watch him scatter his sons ashes into the sea and empty that plastic bag. Only those who even know what that bad of ashes is really like, can relate, or know.

An yes, absolutely, I know that the Lord is with me. As I have written previously, He is so much closer now than ever, very before. Abba and I relate on a whole different level now. It's hard to explain. Even today as I was reading about the Father giving up His Son to bear the crushing weight of our (my) sin, I related to that in a whole new way. Abba, "Daddy" is a lot closer to me, and I to Him. But there are still those little nitty gritty reminders that...with all of this I have.... I still don't have...her...

...Till next time

Tuesday, November 15, 2011 - Tender Mercies

It was unexpected
It was overwhelming

I had put in a full day at the office, and had spent hours that evening finishing the second to the last chapter for the book I am writing on the transformation of Algodao de Jandaira, Brazil.

PJ's on, ready for bed... later than I had hoped, but I was relieved to have finished another chapter. The crunch is on to finish this before I go to Brazil in December. I want to take copies with me... this is their story, God's story, and they have been asking about it. I have faced unnumbered obstacles.

I had washed my face, the warm water felt good. I was drying my face with a towel when the words came at me out of the blue, "Look in the mirror. What do you see?"

The Lord surely knew that if He had given me time, I probably would have answered with some less than kind remarks about the man I would see in the mirror. I'm actually pretty good at not thinking much of myself. That's one of the things that used to irritate Marilou so much. She used to say she could never figure out how I could not see the good in myself. She was my biggest supporter... well, here on earth anyway.

I am sure the Lord knew what He could expect to hear if He gave me the chance, but before I could even lower the towel from my face, He gave the answer to His own question.
Again, the words came strong and clear, "I see a faithful man."

It broke me.

The love and the mercy in His voice, those simple words were more than I could have imagined.
I walked over and flopped onto the bed, and just began to bawl. "I want to be, I want to be." was the only response I could utter as I took a breath between sobs. It has always been the cry of my heart to be found faithful to my precious Lord, and now for Him to say this, so unexpectedly, was mercy that was overwhelming to me. I could not stop sobbing and saying, "I want to be."

He is now more than ever before my all in all. My companion of nearly forty years is gone, and now, essentially, it is He and I. So for Him to speak to me those five grace filled words was more than I could ever have imagined.

It was a special gift to me out of His tender mercies, at a time when I needed to hear them. They were  more than I deserved, but they were healing for me to hear.


Thank you, Abba, for this unexpected, and overwhelming gift of your favor that you have poured out upon me by your tender mercies. I pray it might be a continuing motivation to always walk close to you, and be faithful to your call upon my life. I will, by your grace and mercy, seek to be a faithful man.

... till next time

November 9, 2011 - "Daddy and me"

How should I start this? 

The past week has been a whirlwind -- I left last Wednesday for Santa Fe, New Mexico to teach our Journey to Transformation, "Beginner's Course." It was a wonderful time, the Lord touched each heart in special ways. The all day Saturday teaching took a toll on my voice and I caught a cold in that process. Got home on Sunday night and then began this three day marathon with the VA. Monday was my VA intake exam and from that the Dr. was so concerned about my left eye that he sent me to the emergency room where I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening. Tuesday it was another hours drive to an eye specialist, and then today I spent all day at the VA in Seattle. Outcome, I have cataracts, but also something the Dr. called "afferent pupillary defect." I go back next week to see a optical neurologist. That consult before I can have my cataract surgery. Which because of my travels will probably not happen till next year.

That all might paint a bleak picture, but you know something? There is something that is even far greater that puts it all in perspective. I can't tell you when it started, but somehow in the midst of all of this, within the loss of my dear, precious Marilou...I am experiencing the deepest and richest love relationship with my Abba, Father God that is beyond description. Somehow, I can't say exactly when, but somehow I began to just cry out to "Daddy." And as I did, the floodgates of love burst open from me, and from HIM, and it's like He is closer to me than ever, ever before. And when I get on my knees and cry, "Daddy," it's like I melt in His presence. Even today, driving in to Seattle, and driving home from the VA clinic with all the traffic (you may not know how much I hate traffic), it was a wonderful time of sharing our love, one for another. He is my close companion, more than ever. My sense of His presence is keen, and I am so wonderfully open in my conversation with Him. I am flooded even as I write this with the waves of His overwhelming love and grace for me. The other day I asked Him what He wanted to say to me, and I heard, "Isaiah 43." Which says, But now, this is what the Lord says - he who created you, o Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel; 'Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God, The Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

Daddy and  me. It's more precious and tender and deep and overwhelming than I could possibly describe. Into that place of emptyness, my Daddy stepped, and He is kind and tender, and we love each other more and more each day. I still miss her. But now, I just ask Daddy to tell her for me, then I cry, and then we walk some more together. I still cry, I still grieve, I still get my pillow and my sheets all wet with tears and snot, but I don't do that alone. Yea, I know, I never was alone. But it's just closer now, with Him.

A few years ago, I asked the Lord to teach me how to walk with Him in the way that Jesus did, always aware, always listening, in the Father's presence at all times in an intimate way. Somehow, now... that is taking on a new dimension. Thank you, Daddy, Abba... I love you too.

... till next time

Thursday, November 3, 2011 - "Traveling Alone"

Today was two months since Marilou passed away. There are so many terms you can you for that. "Passed Away" is one. Left, Died (but in the Lord she only started living!!). But two months, it does not seem possible that it has been that long... it does not seem possible that it is only two months. Either one is right...because I feel both at the same time. It seems like a long time in a way. Life has moved forward...kind of... and yet it seems like I remember those last moments like they were yesterday. That moment when my index finger felt the last beat of her heart, and I said to everyone around the bed, "that's it, she's gone." or whatever I said....gets all blurry.

This is also a "First." It is the first trip I have taken since she left.  I think I actually felt that more yesterday, my day of travel. It's the first trip I have taken where I didn't have her to call, and let her know how things are going, let her know that I got here OK. As I was walking through the airport, I had no one to call, and say, I made it. And perhaps the biggest thing that hit me yesterday as I flew into Albuquerque, was that I didn't have her back home praying for me.   I knew I could always know she was praying.  It was one of those security things that I just kind of, sad to say, took for granted. I mean, I could always rely on the fact that I knew she was praying, and she knew how to pray for me. I missed that a whole lot yesterday as I was traveling.

 Today was the two month anniversary - two months! The kids were so wonderful. Esther texted me, saying she was thinking of me, and Carol emailed saying that she was wearing one of Marilou's neckaces. And told me that Jonathan prays often for me. That meant a whole lot to me. (oops, it's the teary eyes again)

It wasn't as bad as I thought today. I am here in Santa Fe to teach our Journey to Transformation Beginner's Course, so I had a nice tour of Santa Fe today and then the afternoon of writing, and three hours of teaching tonight. So my day was filled. Esther and Tony and I decided that it was probably better for me than being home in that empty house today. I did have a crying time last night, in the apartment where I am staying, I just knelt down at the couch, and as I began to pray, I just told Abba, Father how much I missed her, and asked Him to tell her that I really, really miss her. That's enough to get me going every time. The tears continue to flow in rivers, I get everything wet with tears and snot. Right now, even just calling out as I pray, and say "Abba, Daddy..." That's enough to get me bawling.

Two months, on the road now traveling alone. Another paving stone on this new pathway I am walking. Traveling is a part of the ministry, I like it ok, but it will never quite be the same anymore.  Next month at the three months anniversary, I will be arriving in Brasil, and will honor her desire to scatter her ashes in those places where we prayed and met the Lord. But it will not be the same. I'll be traveling without my  partner, my soul mate, my wife. It will never be quite the same. But, life goes on, I must go on. Adjust as I must, and seeking how to walk through this Land of Firsts.

... till next time

October 29, 2011 - "Conflicting Realities"

"Conflicting Realities" - That's about the only term that I can come up with to try to describe what has been racing through my mind and heart these past days. They are like parallel universes that I am supposed to be living in all at the same time.

Loss - No matter how anybody puts it, the reality of the sense of loss is everywhere. Every part of life reflects this sense of  loss. The simplest things are constantly overshadowed by the reality that the one that I should be sharing this with, or talking to about this is no longer there. It's kind of like the character in the Charlie Brown cartoons who always had this cloud hanging over his head. That is about as close as I can get to trying to describe it. It's not something I "wish" to have there. It's not even something I "intend" to have there... it's just THERE! I get to the point where I wish that cloud would just go away, but it doesn't. It's not that I "conjure up" this cloud over me...but from the time I wake up in the morning until I lay myself down again alone at night, this reality of loss is with me.  I don't know if you ever get over that. I suppose it is just like a ill-fitting pair of shoes,  you get used to them hurting, and just keep walking. The "gaping hole" that I described at an earlier time... I suppose it's always a hole. I just have to learn to live with this hole in my side. I am reminded of it every day. I see a couple walk into the store together and I remember. I get mail addressed to her... the insurance salesman comes to the door to talk to her about medicare.... OH MY GOD!!  I really was nice to him... he had no idea, until I told him. I thought I let him ease out of the situation nicely. But it's just another reminder of what I don't have anymore.

Life - The other reality that I have to live in, is that life just keeps on going. Days start, work demands, people live, days end and life goes on. At this point in the journey, it is still a bit difficult for me to keep up with the pace of things. I still feel like I'm going in slow motion. My mind is clouded and my thinking processes are not as fast, so when some "issue" comes up, I am not able to handle it like I used to. That happened this week. Something that I probably could have at least handled more easily, became a virtual knock out punch. Life goes on, but my ability to deal with the other issues of life are weakened.
There's another part of this "reality" of life that is hard to describe. I feel like, by now, everyone is really tired of all of this and they just secretly wish I'd get over it and move on. HA! That's how I feel!! I am tired of my living in all of this, and I wish I would just get over it and move on!!!  But I'm trying to figure out how I can live successfully in these parallel realities. Life just goes on whether I'm ready to keep up or not.

 Lessons - I'm not sure how else to name this third reality I'm supposed to be living in. It's related to what I just said. Somehow, I am supposed to, and I want to... learn "valuable life lessons" from all of this. It almost makes me laugh to say it. Like the real "spiritual" thing to do is to develop from this time, some great, deep and insightful things to share with others.  Now, don't get me wrong. I actually really want to learn from the things that the Lord wants to teach me. I actually started doing a study from Scripture of what kind of man the Lord would want me to be as I walk ahead with Him. So, I want to learn, I want to grow, I want that perhaps some of these things could be a help to others. It's just that right now, I feel like it's way too early,. Today was seven weeks since Marilou died... right here in our house...forty-nine short days ago, she slipped out of this reality, and from my life, and that may seem a long time to some folks, and it's kind of hard for me to grasp, but maybe, just maybe I'm not ready for any deep spiritual lessons. Maybe I'm still trying to figure out what the questions are!

So here I am... trying to live in these parallel universes of reality. How am I doing? I think I'm doing OK. For someone who is straddling three mutually exclusive, yet intertwined universes. Figure that one out! I suppose given the fact that I wrote all of this without my eyes welling up and overflowing with tears is a good sign. I guess.

...till next time.

.

October 22, 2011 - "Bigger Things"

It was an interesting night tonight... One of those "encounter" kind of things.

The day was great. Esther and Tony came over, we had lunch together and walked Steve the dog... yea, their dog's name is Steve.... then we came home and had some hot chocolate together, and they went home. I am so very, very glad they are close... it would be a lot harder if I didn't have any family around here. I can't imagine how that would be

Evening came and I have been trying to make it a habit of attending the Saturday evening worship with the folks of Monroe Community Chapel. Then I can be free to visit with the other churches on Sunday mornings. I like having the "bigger" family of God in the city.

Pastor Scott McClure has been preaching on our seeking after the Father's heart. At the end of the message he challenged us to surrender to Christ. And it was like the "raindrops keep falling from my eyes" theme all over again. The Lord was speaking so clearly to me in  all of His gentleness, grace and love... "Steve, you have to surrender to me  your wondering why." It was the theme of the GriefShare group on Wednesday, and now here it was again. Only now, with infinite mercy, the Lord was asking me if I would surrender to him that great big lump in my chest... the thing that makes me cry out in agony more than anything else... "Lord, I don't understand what's happened... I don't understand!!!"

It's not like I have been holding this against God. I'm not angry. It's just that everything happened so fast, and whizzed by like a shot, and now I'm 42 days from the time she left. It seems to long ago, yet so fresh, so new, so unknown. There are times when I can hardly grasp that she is not here. I miss her so, very much, and now...

After the service was over, Pastor Scott must have seen I was in distress. Of course I was crying and blowing my nose through the whole closing prayer... that's kind of a dead give-away! And then,  he asked how I'm doing. I just could not hold it back. He was very kind and prayed with me. It was a tender moment. I needed that. Thanks Pastor Scott.

There are two things here that now I'm trying to get into my "being." First, I know I will not  have the answer to my question of why. I know that. And even in those moments when I am tearfully crying out to Him in the darkness of my alone-ness, I really don't expect Him to tell me why. But here it was, the question, "Steve, will you surrender your 'why' to me?"  Yes, Lord... the best I know how, I surrender my "why's" my "I don't understand" to you. Help me to leave it with you.


The other thing that I was struck with this evening, even before the end of the message, and all the "why" stuff. It was like the Lord reminding me that as big as my grief may seem right now. As "in my face" as the loss is at this point in time, there is something bigger. That something bigger is...Him, His love, His plans, His will.
 It's kind of like when you have something that is right at the end of your nose...your hand or whatever... at that moment it takes up all of your vision. You can't see anything else except that thing that is right in your face (remember what I said earlier?) So even when the dark shadow of grief is "in my face" there are bigger things. I just need to be able to recognize that truth, count on it in the "in your face" times, and remember that His bigger things are far greater than I can imagine, if I will surrender myself to Him, His purposes, His grace, His love, into His all-knowing, all-loving hands.

The tears tonight at church, and even as I write (it's hard to see the keyboard through the tears you know)  were not only about the surrender of the "why's," but was also a response to how gently and tenderly He asked me. How can I refuse you, Lord? Your love and mercy are overwhelming even in this time, and yes, I surrender to you my "why's" and my lack of understanding. I surrender all of this to you so that you can use whatever of this you want for your... BIGGER THINGS.

And Lord... give me strength to surrender it all again.... tomorrow.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011 -- "Good Days - What they look like"

Good days...

They are what we all want. But what does a good day look like from this perspective?  A good question.

My immediate answer would be to say that a good day is when you don't break down and sob somewhere embarrassing.  A good day is when you only cry a couple times. For me the hardest time is at those dark hours before going to sleep, when the house is dark (to conserve on electricity I walk around at night with my flashlight to avoid turning on lights - crazy?) and your thoughts turn to what isn't anymore. That's probably the lonliest time of the day.

But, back to good days.

A good day is when you feel like you are starting to feel that you can make it like this. It's a strange kind of realism. You sense that if you can keep pushing ahead and keep your thoughts under control, things will get better. It's hard to describe because it's a combination of a feeling of hope, mixed with a feeling of anticipation and at the same time a feeling of guilt. Guilt that you might not always be feeling these depths of grieve all the time. And somehow you're supposed to. You know that's not true, but the thinking is still there.

A good day is when you successfully manage to get everything on your shopping list and don't start tearing up when you start to think about what she would tell you to buy. She had diabetes, so rightfully so, all our menu was built around a diabetic diet. Well no more, baby! Well, maybe without the exclamation point. It means that I learned a lot from her about how to eat healthy, and I still am trying to do that.. but I do get to treat myself once in a while.

Admittedly, a good day is one that is full of activity and busyness, so that thoughts don't wander much. But that's ok too. At first, it's just so hard to focus on anything for long, so to spend a whole day when you are focusing on duties and job and activities really is a first in this Land of Firsts.

A good day is when you can sit across the desk from the gal at the bank and not get tears in your eyes as she reads the death certificate, and closes out her bank accounts. When you can sit there and make conversation with a smile on your face, and try real hard not to have a "victim" look on your face.  Don't knock it 'till you have to try it!

A good day is when you can get through a long Saturday of doing laundry, and vacuuming and crushing to bits all those pills that she never used. Disposing of them actually in some way feels like you are throwing away a part of her. A good day is when you can remember giving her those meds without losing it because they remind you of what you lost.

A good day is when you take that bag of clothes  you were going to take to Goodwill out of your trunk and take them back inside the house, and hang  up one of her favorite t-shirts and her ball cap... just to remember...and you ONLY tear up a little.


Yea, a good day is really a matter of perspective. But the Lord says that His mercies are new every morning, so you count on that. A good day is when you are receiving more strength from the Lord than you could have imagined, and it makes you feel like, "Yea, we can do this."

A good day is when you have those little feelings that people really do survive and even thrive in this Land of Firsts, and that with the Lord's help you want to walk strong, and keep true to Him.

There have been some good days since my last post, and that helps realize that you can have more good days ahead.

....till later

Friday, October 14, 2011 - I Don't Understand!

Last night was a first... in this Land of Firsts. Wednesday and Thursday were busy days... busy at the office, busy at home trying to keep up with preparing the Journey to Transformation Beginner's Course materials, trying to work on my book and trying to get "Thank You" cards out. Fixing meals, and keeping up with bills. Last night I even gave myself a treat, and went to DQ for a small hot fudge sunday... with extra hot fudge (That was one of her favorites!) But Thursday night... after those two busy days, as I prepared for bed, now the house dark and just the closet light on, this gigantic wave came over me. The expression was simply, "Lord, I don't understand!" "I don't understand, why this has happened, I don't understand why you let this happen! You know I love you, you know I know you are good and faithful, but I don't understand why this happened!"  And it began.

Wave after wave of weeping, and sobbing. Not the neat gentle kind... the wrenching, nose dripping, unstoppable kind that come from so deep within, you're almost astonished at where this is coming from.

And then, the thought again... "She never said "Good bye." "She never said anything to me." It was that great sense of loss, that things happened so fast and she was then so consumed with the tiredness and the lack of awareness, that she never really said her "Good bye's" to me. She never had a chance to just speak words of "Good bye," and there was this overwhelming sense of loss from that. And so the crying out continued, on, and on...Loud enough, that behind all of it, my mind was hoping the neighbors wouldn't hear it. Thankful that, if I had still been in the apartment, everyone would have heard!

About the time, my energy seemed to be sapped completely, and there was a lull in those waves... I would no more than catch my breath, and it would come again... great, noisy, messy, loud cries from the depth of my soul. It continued on, twenty minutes, forty minutes... over and over, they came.

It is not that my faith is being tested as such. My trust in God remains sure and firm. I am not having a crisis of faith. I know that my heavenly Father loves me, that he is good, and gracious, and loving, and will redeem all of this, but the question that screamed from deep, deep within, was simply "WHY? I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" As I lay on the bed, in the darkness, I wanted God to wake me up from this dream and bring her back from whatever vacation she is on.

This was a first. Not the wailing and crying... but last night was really the first night with such intensity that I cried myself to sleep. I know that the crying lasted a good hour, but I'm not really sure when I finally fell asleep. And when I awoke this morning, there was still that momentary sense that I need to not disturb her. But of course, she wasn't there. What was there was this residue on my eyelids from the salty tears that had soaked my pillow and sheets the night before.

And so, another day in the Land of Firsts. Another day to try to accomplish what I can, knowing that I labor with a handicap. Trusting that my Father in heaven will be with me. He promises that he heals the broken hearted, and binds up their wounds. So, here I am, Lord. Give me strength to not have one of those fits in public, PLEASE!

Yup, it's a land of firsts. T
I know there is a glow on the horizon, it is the glow of a new day, new experiences, new mercies, and new depths in my walk. I know I am not alone in this new land. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff comfort me. (Ps. 23: 4). Yet I walk now with a limp.

... till next time!

Tuesday, October 11, 2011 - THERE'S A GAPING HOLE IN MY SIDE!!!

Tuesday... for some reason, today was a "weepy" day. It seems like I could hardly go an hour without the tears flowing. Kinda like that old 60's song, "it feels like rain drops, so many rain drops. It feels like rain drops, falling from my eye-eyes, fallin from my eyes."

Some days seem to be like that. Yesterday I made it most of the day, except in the evening, writing "Thank You" cards. Today? All day it's been feelin like rain drops, fallin from my eyes. Twice now I have described it this way: Now, more than ever before I understand what the Lord means when he says that in marriage, "the two shall become one flesh." There are dimensions of that not many people talk about the other side of the grave. On the living side... we say it, but we don't know the depths of that truth. And now? I HAVE A GAPING HOLE IN MY SIDE!  OH, it's not a neat, clean surgical cut of some extremity, oh no! This is like someone stuck his hand in your gut and just ripped it all out, leaving all the jagged edges, and bones, and blood vessels and nerve endings all just hanging there. And then of course, your supposed to walk around like everything is ok. Can't they see it? It's horrid, it's aweful, and painful, and it all just hangs there. Sorry to be so graphic...well, not really. You're reading this, you might as well know it the way it is. I'm not going to try to sugar-coat it.

People talk about triggers. You want to know some of my triggers lately?
Worship! Yea that's a trigger... I'm in church, in worship, and I begin to think, and to wonder what it's like for her there, in His Presence... what kind of joy she must have. How her face must just beam with adoration. How her longings to be with Him are fulfilled now. And I have a connection there. I'm glad for her, but it's hard on this side.

Another trigger - clouds... yea clouds. The beautiful clouds that fill the sky here in Washington, and then I think how we would be driving together and both of us commenting on how we love the clouds...then it starts raining... hey, what's that salty water doing in my mouth?

Grocery shopping... I almost didn't go into the Albertson's tonight to do my shopping. Those rain drops were showing up again. Remembering going together up and down the isles, a chore we did most of the time together. Ha! now it takes me half the time and one third the bucks, but what I wouldn't  trade to have it back the way it was.

Triggers... they are those loose nerve endings that are still dangling from this gaping wound in  my side. Now, imagine trying to go about your regular work and routine with such a gaping hole in your side... now you know why I might be a bit slow, or not be keeping up, or not "with it" like I used to be... don't you see this hole in my side?

Oh, yea.... sorry, you can't see it... probably from the outside, I look pretty normal... eyes are a little red, but I'm looking to everyone else like a fairly normal guy.  Except for this massive, open wound.

Oh well, I have to go put the groceries away, and finish that sermon for Sunday on "Patience, waiting for the return of Christ..."  Oh,oh... there comes the rain again. Have to work on the book tonight too, then finish up for the "Renewal of Vows" for Friday night... yup, life goes on.. gaping hole and all...

...till next time...

Friday, October 7, 2011 - Questions

How do I even begin to describe today?

Where did all those sore muscles come from last night? I could barely sleep for the pain, and it hurt to just move. I discovered last night, that the water heater was leaking and needed to be replaced. So no shower this morning as I pulled myself out of bed and got ready to drive to Mt. Vernon for my first VA Medical appointment. I think this will work out OK. Then I got back just in time to make arrangements for the replacement water heater to be installed to the tune of $1,049.00. Great! How long will it take me to pay that one off?

How long does this mish-mash of emotions go on? One moment I am saying to myself, "OK, we are not going to be the victim here, time to get it together and move forward!" The next moment, wondering how long I've been in this "fog?"  I know this journey gets easier with time, but how much time will I need? What does "moving on" look like? How long will it seem like the whole world is just whirring in front of me, and I'm living in slow motion? I WANT to get  control of my life, but why does it seem so hard? Things that were so easy before, now seem to take so much extra energy.

Esther, through her work, made some wonderful "Thank You" cards. They came today. So now I can begin to send "Thank You's" to so many wonderful friends... And to be honest, even that is a mixed blessing. It is so over-whelming to think of all those who sent cards and checks and notes. There is the challenge of trying to know how to even say, "Thanks."  Then there is the reality (and please don't take this the wrong way) that most everyone else is now just going on about "life."  An it should be that way. That's part of the cycle, I guess.

Then there was the task of bagging up all those beautiful flowers that are now wilting and need to be thrown out... another reminder of the truth of Scripture that our life is like the grass that grows up, then withers and dies. Another step in "moving on" I guess. Anybody need some vases?

Then, there was that reminder today that the Lord really is watching out for me. A friend from Romania called on Skype. Said that I had been on  his mind for some weeks, and then he talked with a mutual friend and heard from them about Marilou. His wife has been battling health issues for years. My eyes were so full of tears at how wonderful it was that the Spirit of God would touch him to pray for me half-way around the world, when he had so clue what was going on. Even writing of it now brings tears to my eyes.

And so, things move on... I want to move on, I don't want to be "stuck" here. And I suppose I am not really "stuck," that all of this is indeed part of the "moving on." I know that Marilou would want me to "flourish" and grow in this new stage of my life. I want to as well. And I know the Lord wants that. But there are still a lot of questions, a lot of "unknowns" that hang in the air like a thick fog sometimes.

Am I depressed? No, I don't think so, I think this is just grieving, and there  is no shortcut. I wish there was, but there isn't. "Even though I walk through the dark valley of death, because you are with me, I fear no harm. Your rod and your staff give me courage." Ps. 23 4, God's Word version. Yes, Lord... Your rod and your staff give me courage. And so, despite the questions, You and I will walk through this valley together. And you know the reason there is a shadow in this dark valley? Because there is light on the other side. I say, "YES" to you, Lord. P.S. You did see that water heater bill didn't you? (and we both chuckle together).

Heading out to prayer meeting tonight. It will be good to be with friends.

Wednesday, October 5, -- Some Good Firsts

Today was actually a mixture of whirring thoughts and emotions. Have you ever seen one of those commericals, or scenes from a movie where the person is standing still, and everything around them is going by in a blur? That's what it has been feeling like lately. Part of the reason for that is that everyone else has now gotten back to life as usual, the usual pace and things to do, the usual demands and expectations for productivity.... and yet in my own existence, I feel like I am standing still watching it all go whirring around me. And then again... for me in this new land... what IS productivity?.

Now, that does not mean that there are not good things. How I appreciated the prayers of the pastors of Monroe as we met this morning, and they prayed for me. It was the first meeting where I have joined them as a group at their twice a month meeting.

It was a good time at the "GriefShare" meeting today. Our topic today was "when your spouse dies." But it was a good time.

It was a productive day, and that is a first in this new land. It was productive at the office. It was productive at home as I read over the edited edition of my coming book, and made some progress on some home projects.
It might be hard for you to understand if I tell you that even though there were many times during the day when my eyes filled with tears, it was a good and productive day.

It was a day when I again felt like I wanted to find who the "New Me" will be in this Land of Firsts." I've had some ideas, but there was a little tinge of excitement in my to find out what that might look like. I fought off the tinge of guilt, that tried to creep in to say I should not feel excitement about that... somehow I'm supposed to stay moody and sad. HA!!!  How Marilou would be mad at that one!! I have that picture of her with the whisk in her hand!!!

So, today was a good day... Maybe the "first" pretty positive day in a while. So, knowing I am on this roller coaster... I'll take this good day, thank the Lord for those who helped to make it a good day, and head for bed thanking the Lord...

That in this Land of Firsts.... this was a pretty good day!  And that makes me smile.  Hey another little first!

Monday, October 3 -- Like a Low Grade Fever

I wasn't going to post this, but if I'm going to make this an honest, real-life blog then I figure I'd better at least make a stab at it.

The last couple days actually have been very difficult. It's not that I don't smile and interact with people when they talk to me. And I know that even writing this is risky, because then people even more, don't know how to interact with you. But if you are reading this and wondering that... remember.. it's not about you. Talk to me like regular, but remember, today when I am talking to you, I might be running a low-grade fever.

No, not an elevated body temperature. This low-grade fever has more to do with a sadness that's just below the surface. Like Yesterday, Sunday. I knew that the sadness was there. I got up and went to church. But it seems like every song reminded me of her. I wondered how she was doing now, and what it will be like when I see her again. I could picture her smile as we would meet in Jesus presence, only she would be glowing and beaming in His presence. And of course my eyes would fill with tears while everyone around was singing and dancing in worship. It was there, this low-grade fever. And then when the worship time was over and people were greeting one another, I snuck out to my car. When I sat there alone in the car, I just began to cry with my head on my arm... and I drove home.  It's hard. You don't want people really to know you have the fever, but it's not like you can react and talk quite the same as normal.

It's not the kind of thing that words or even actions can soothe. It's just there. Some days are worse than others. Some days you can go most of the day without any release. But there are always those private times, when no one is looking and your eyes begin to fill with tears and you try to not be seen till things clear up a bit.

They talk about going through grief and feeling a bit crazy. This must be part of that. It probably doesn't help that when I threw back the covers of the bed this morning, I actually looked over to see if she would be there. She wasn't of course. It's still kind of unreal that she is never coming back here. So that low-grade fever just hangs around for a while.

That doesn't mean I don't like to be with you, or that Idon't enjoy being with people. I do, and actually, I don't mind talking about it. It's just I'm running a low-grade grief fever... hahaha... maybe it's like having allergies in the Land of Firsts... eyes water and  your nose runs... that must be it. I even got a chuckle out of that one... so now it's time to try to sleep and maybe tomorrow the low-grade fever will give me a break for a day... maybe.

Saturday, October 1, 2011 8:47 PM, PDT

One month -

I could not think of anything else to put as an entry title... just "one month." I actually watched the clock as it came to 2:45...the time one month ago she was drawing her last breaths... coming gasping, slowly, yet quickly...putting my finger to her neck to fell her slowing pulse.. ever weaker and slower... and I felt that last beat of her heart, and the time was 2:50. One month ago.
Time is a strange creature. A moment can seem like it goes on and on, yet a month can seem like it is just a blink of an eye. Four weeks...is that all? just four short weeks? Yet it seems like such a long time. The mystery of time and how we perceive it, and all of it is caught up in the middle of an eternity that is timeless.
One month, and I am starting to manifest some of those crazy symptoms of grieving. Thinking she is there when I wake up in the morning. Thinking she might have the light on, and be waiting for me when I come back from Saturday evening church. Tears at the craziest times. Wondering, "Who am I now?" When you are married as long as we were, your identities are so intertwined..."the two shall become one flesh." Now, am I half a flesh? No and yes.
Questions fill my mind. Shall I keep this? What should the house look like? How should I decorate? How do I relate now to people? Could I have done more, or better? So many questions, no one can answer...I suppose I will discover the answers as I walk toward in this "Land of Firsts."
I imagine that this will likely be the last, or nearly the last of these entries. I wish to thank each one who has been so kind and loving and open to allowing me these times to pour out the expressions of my heart. Again, there are no words to convey how strengthening you all have been. And now, a new chapter begins. A new land to explore. And wherever this adventure takes me, the person I will be there, will be a result of how Marilou touched and impacted and molded my life by her influence. She is indelibly stamps on my life and my character.
One month ends, and another begins

Tuesday, September 27, 2011 3:28 PM, PDT

Reality bits in the Land of Firsts

Tuesday? Yea, it's Tuesday...All of the preparations and getting ready for the Memorial Service are over....Family is all gone home...work calls...and life goes on.

The last few days have been those flashes of reality... you know... those things you are so used to thinking and doing that they come without forethought. A bit of news from a friend and the instant thought to share that when you get home...but, oh yeah, she's not there to share that with. Turning over in the middle of the night and hoping you are not disturbing her.... oh yea, she's not there to disturb. Many of those little bits of reality have been coming these last few days. Then, today as I was driving home, almost to the driveway...a sudden burst of reality, feeling like an elevator that is dropping out of control, she is not here! This house we moved into together... she will never be back.

As I got to the house and walked around inside, it struck like a bolt of lightning... seemingly out of nowhere... looking at her pictures on the board from Saturday's memorial service...this isn't some temporary little glitch... she's gone, she will never be coming back here. And then it broke open... the wailing of grief,

over and over again, in wave after wave it came, uncontrollable bawling..."How could this be?" "How could this happen?" Still the waves continued to roll out of my insides, bursting out in uncontrolled sobbing and wailing. Gone...

It was like an underground river had suddenly been released... all the control that I had needed to get through these last days let go in shrieks of lament and aloneness.

It has nothing to do with faith, nothing to do with assurance of life eternal... it has everything to do with the one who is a par of you is  now brutally ripped out of your existence. She is not there to come home to. She is not there to share with. She is not there to laugh at my jokes. She is just not there ... for the rest of my life on this earth... she will not be there any more. Final...reality. Reality, sometimes in bits sometimes in great heaving outbursts.

So, now I live in a new land. The land of Firsts. I don't even know what that means, but here I am, on foreign soil. No choice but to move ahead and be ready for the "Reality bits" in this land of firsts. Kind of like the TV series, "LOST."  Crashed on an uncharted island. Make a life for yourself, or get consumed by the island.

Only I am NOT LOST... I mourn, I grieve, and bawl and wail, but I am not lost. I guess it is all part of living here in the land of firsts. It has been 40 years since I have been this alone. But I an not lost and I am not alone.

Well, I'd better go wash my face with some cold water, and blow my nose good. My dear friends Terry and MaryLynn will be here soon. They are taking me out to dinner. And came all the way from Minneapolis, can you believe that? Oops, the eyes are leaking again... I'll go wash my face, and learn how to live in victory in the Land of Firsts. With Jesus' help, maybe I can be like old Caleb and conquer some mountains in this new land

Tuesday, September 20, 2011 8:18 PM, PDT

Falling...A Good Thing

Today, in the midst of all the other things that were going on, today was the day I had to go to the mortuary and pick up Marilou's "remains." Her ashes. It's just weird. Genesis 3:19 states it this way,

You will have to work hard and sweat to make the soil produce anything, until you go back to the soil from which you were formed. You were made from soil, and you will become soil again.”

It may seem kind of silly or morbid to some, but when I got home, I opened the plastic "urn" that they had given me ( I was prepared for this because my Dad was cremated) and I lifted the plastic bag a little ways out of that plastic box, and thought to myself..."Is that all that is left?"  A natural question given the circumstances, but of course as believers, we know that it is not all that is left. The Word of God makes it clear that for the one who places his/ or her faith in Christ as Savior, to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord ( 2 Corinthians 5:6-8). Marilou is not in that box, she is rejoicing in the glorious presence of her redeemer, of Jesus whose face she longed to see.

And while I was driving home with all these thoughts going through my head, and this plastic box in the seat next to me... where she used to sit... my mind went again to that Newsboys song... "In The Hands of God."...

"In the hands of God, we will fall, rest for the restless, and the weary, hope for the sinner. In the hands of God we stand tall. Hands that are mighty to deliver. giving us freedom... and when all is finished and we face the fearsome power of death, only One has overcome the gates of hell. In the hand of God, we will fall..."
And as I turned the corner toward home, it was as if I was allowing myself to fall... fall into the hands of our wonderful God. We do not mourn as those who have no hope... oh yea, the tears are still filling my eyes even as I write, but I know... it's ok to fall... fall into the hands of the One who holds all things, and gently catches me. It's a good thing... to fall... into the hands of God.

It feels good here...
In His hands...

Sunday, September 18, 2011 9:29 PM, PDT

We Didn't Have Enough Time!

This was one of those up and down, wave after wave kinds of days....
Thank you, Lord for the wonderful people who are praying for me. It is  so very encouraging, and I'm sure it's those prayers that get me through these kinds of days.

Took a walk around the lake after "lunch." Didn't feel like eating much, in fact now, I can't even remember what I had... but thought It would be good to take a walk, and headed for Lake Tye. After all, it's close and it's a good walk.

Good thing there were not very many people out walking around the lake today... I'm not sure what they might have thought if they saw me walking toward them. I got about half-way around and it just hit me like a great Tsunami wave... We didn't have enough time! It all happened so fast. I'm not sure I'd want to be one of those that has to battle for months with such a thing, but...she was gone before...

She never said "Goodbye" I never got to hear her say her goodbye's to me. Sure, we had talked, thinking we would have more time.We spent so much time battling the fevers, then it was hospital, then hospice, bang, bang, bang, one after the other. I was so busy trying just to keep her comfortable, and by that time, she was spending most of her time sleeping. The time for conversations was over.  And when she took her all too sudden turn for the worse, I told her how proud I was of her, how proud I was of the strength of her faith, of her testimony for Him. I gave her permission to leave, and be with her Jesus. On that last day, in those last few moments, I whispered in her ear that we all loved her and were there for her, and it was ok if she left. But we didn't have enough time!

I wish now we could have had more time to talk about all those things that really matter. But we thought we had more time! And as those thoughts came flooding into my mind...I could not stop the sobbing, crying out loud... "Why did you leave me so soon?" "We didn't have enough time!" "You never said Goodbye!""  (I'm going to  have to learn to bring Kleenex with me wherever I go now.)

And then tonight...it was a great time at the "We Love Our Kids" Community Prayer Time to pray for our schools. I loved it, but it was bitter sweet...I remember the day she came home so excited... telling me she had been walking downtown and saw this banner across Main street... "We Love Our Kids" and a prayer meeting! It was out introduction to the wonderful Church of Monroe. It just reminded me tonight that I will have all kinds of those memories...walking around the lake, driving down Main Street, looking at the mountains she loved... so many things.

I don't have an answer for that...why didn't we have more time? Why did it  have to happen so fast? I don't know. I just don't know.

And then, with wet eyes, I get in the car, and I hear the song from the Newsboys, "In The Hands of God."  Yup, that's it..."In the Hands of God we will fall... rest for the weary and the restless... In the hands of God we stand tall... hands that are mighty to deliver, giving us freedom."
No, we didn't have enough time, but tonight, I fall into the hands of God

Saturday, September 17, 2011 8:32 PM, PDT

Ink on Paper and Blessed Assurance

Today was two weeks...I find it still hard to fathom that she is really gone. But is she really? Today was a day of trying to get some things prepared for next weeks Memorial Service. I bought one of those tri-fold foam boards to put pictures on, and as I was trying to pick out the right pictures and lay them out... the thought came to my mind..."Is this all that is left of her? These scraps of ink on paper?" I know the answer, but that doesn't prevent the question from raising itself up in my mind. How can a few scraps of paper do justice to a persons life? The people who see these pictures... what are they going to know of the person they represent? Her spirit, her faith, her struggles, her questions and her love? I have boxes and boxes and boxes of pictures...and yet they cannot tell all the story of the life of this person who shared her life with me for forty years. Up to the end she still laughed at my jokes... I could still make her laugh. That was one of those things that drew us together from the very beginning, laughing together.

And then I received this wonderful copy of the Daily Bread from friends in Iowa, copied from September 12. I laughed out loud when I read the first paragraph... "As I was talking with a gentleman whose wife had died, he shared with me that a friend said to him, 'I'm sorry you lost your wife.' His reply? 'Oh, I haven't lost her; I know exactly where she is!" YES! YES! YES!!  What a great answer! I love it! Now if I can just remember that one!

The Scripture was from 2 Corinthians 5:8, "We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord." Kind of like being absent from school...doesn't mean you do not exist anymore, it just means that for that time period you were not in that location in the school. Maybe you were home, maybe your were on vacation with your family. So I looked it up..."Absent, not present at a place or an occasion."  OK, I haven't lost her, she is absent from this place, but I am absent also... I am absent from where she is, in the glories of heaven.

Doesn't mean I don't miss her. If your friend is absent from school, you miss them, but you await the time you will be together again. Still, the missing hurts a lot sometimes. I find  myself thinking, "Oh, I need to go share that with Marilou!... Oh, no, I can't she's not here."

Two very special things came in the mail yesterday that just blew me away... still brings tears to my  eyes. One was a card from a dear, dear friend in Minneapolis who is a Messianic Jewish Rabbi. They sent a card saying that a tree was planted in Israel in Marilou's memory. I can't keep the tears back on that one. Her dad was Russian Jew, and we never got to Israel. And now there is a tree there in that homeland in  her memory. Thank you Seed of Abraham Congregation... wow.

The other was a card that had two hummingbirds on it that was sent from a friend from Australia (whom I have yet to meet). She saw that card, remembered the story of the hummingbirds here at the house and sent it all the way from Australia! How amazingly thoughtful is that? I was so blown away!

So when it's all said and done, a persons life is so much more than just ink on paper. We who are here, still have opportunity to make those kinds of impressions and actions that will make a lasting impact on others. We still have time to say, "I love you." We still have the chance to give that hug, or say, "I forgive" or "I'm sorry."

Two weeks...I cannot wrap my mind around how long is seems and how short it seems both at the same time. What will it be like when it is two months, then two years?  I guess I'll have to let you know. But just  remember... I haven't lost my wife, I know exactly where she is!!

Monday, September 12, 2011 6:21 PM, PDT

Marilou - Can You Hear Me?

Can you hear me? It's one of the mysteries that we deal with on this side of the gulf we call death. How much are you aware of what is going on down here? I wondered today if you could hear me. Could  you see?

If you could hear, I would say thank you for obeying the Lord when you struggled with him in prayer about our dating relationship and he told you to give me a chance. Thank you for being so humble that you were happy about a wedding dress I bought you at J.C. Penny's. I took it out of the closet the other day. It's still there.
Thank you for being such a good sport when we were at our "cabin" on our honeymoon, and after buying TV dinners, we found that what we thought was an oven was in actuality a refrigerator. Remember trying to cook TV dinners on a stove?

Thank you for those difficult years when I was in school and working and you were such a loving and caring mother. Thank you for being willing to trust the Lord when we had to eat dinner on the living room floor with the cockroaches, and you stuck it out. Thank you for the many ways you supported and stood up for me.

We shared many pretty cool times. It was an amazing time for us to be able to live in Switzerland. Thanks for trying to hard to learn German. Even when you told someone that I had resurrected instead of recovered from my cold. Hahaha! We all got a good laugh out of that.

Thank you for working hard at learning the new culture, walking into the village every day to buy bread. Learning to be an excellent house frau.

Thank you for the years that you poured your life into those dear folks  who were developmentally disabled that you worked with. They all knew you loved them... it just showed all the time. I was looking at some of those pictures today. You made them smile a lot.

Thank you for trying so hard to be a good pastor's wife, when we know at times you wanted to just punch some people right in the kisser for the way they treated us. But you prayed for them, and stuck it out. Thanks, Honey...Thanks.

I was looking at the pictures of our prayer journey to Morocco. Thanks for being an adventurer - even more than me. when we had not idea what we were ordering! Oh the adventures we had...

Thanks, Honey, for all the things you did that no one will every know.. except us, to love your children, trying to help them grow up to love the Lord. I know  how hard it was when you put Jonathan on the bus from Iowa to Florida when he left for the Navy, three days after High School Graduation. I know the tears you shed sitting on his bed.

Thanks how you encouraged Esther to  get involved in drama...you were always there to support and encourage her. You were so very proud of her. I know she was your little movie star.

Thanks for being so faithful in praying and holding down the fort when I was off traveling or busy with ministry. I know you struggled to know what your part was... but you knew it was to support me. Thanks.

Thanks for how solid your faith in the Lord has been all those years, even when you had no answers to all those questions you had. You had more questions than anyone I ever knew!  I am sure all of those are answered now that you are with your Jesus.

I looked through so many of our picture albums, and I was reminded of all the things we were privileged to do, and see, and experience in our nearly forty years together. Thanks for making it all very special by your presence.
Looking at all those pictures... can you hear me? I miss you a lot. A whole lot. And I would not take away from you what you have now... I just want to say...

Thanks, Honey. I think I even love  you more now. But I have to stop now... my eyes actually hurt from all the tears that are streaming down my cheeks...tears of thanksgiving that we had all those years together. They weren't perfect!! HA! But they were good, because of you. I hope you can hear me

Sunday, September 11, 2011 9:56 PM, PDT

Sunday - One Week + One

I did not write an entry for Saturday... I remember looking at the clock yesterday afternoon and trying to convince myself that it was really only one week ago at that very hour, I was calling the hospice hotline to report to them that Marilou had passed away. In so many ways it seems like it has been ages ago, with all the agencies to notify, and trying to find some kind of new rhythm for my life... and then it seemed like it was only a few short minutes ago that I gone out on the deck and shook with the sobbing cries that came rushing from deep within me after watching her take her final breath. There are those experiences that seem to mess with our "internal clocks." This has to be one of the worst.

Finding a new rhythm of life. It has to be a very intentional thing, making yourself make choices to carry on. I'm not sure what that really looks like yet, but I have asked the Lord to teach me what that should look like, and how He would like to use me in this new phase of my journey with Him.  I know that I want to be a blessing to others that I am with. I want to be a fun "old man" to be around...I want our / my house to be a place where people feel welcome to come, a place of healing, a place that is comfortable.

Another part of finding a new rhythm of life happened today, when Esther came over and we went through Marilou's clothes and took them off the hangers and put them into black garbage bags to take them to Goodwill. I could remember when she wore each piece of clothing, that particular t-shirt she loved to wear... those pajamas I got her for Christmas...what year was that? It almost felt like a sacrilege to stuff them in those bags, but they are, after all, just "things." I am not interested in making a shrine, and she would hate to think I was caring that much about just physical stuff. But I could smell her on each piece, yet I knew that was not her. An besides, as Esther pointed out... most of this stuff she bought at Goodwill, so it is just "going back to whence it came." (laughing) Marilou was the consummate thrift store shopper. I was always amazed at how consistently she would come home after hours at the thrift store and proudly show off some name brand blouse or pants that still had the label on it, and  tell me how she only paid three dollars for it. So what came out of the bag, went back into the bags and we loaded up my car and pulled up to the Goodwill donation site. Then what was hard was watching the guy throw them into a plastic dumpster of some kind they had there... it seemed so...disrespectful.

And now that part of the closet is only filled with empty coat hangers, another part of a new rhythm of life.
Then Esther and I went down to her favorite coffee shop. right across from the lake. The place that Marilou and Esther used to and hang out together before they would take their walks around the lake.

There was that awkward moment when the owner who was taking our orders asked us, "Well, what did you do today?" The funny feeling I had in the pit of my stomach when I heard answer, "well my Mom passed away last week, and we were going through her stuff."  so we talked and shed a few tears together as we remembered that my wife, her mom carried a lot of "stuff" from her childhood, and now was free of that "stuff."
I was glad to hear Esther relate how she was so glad that in these past months, she really came into a good place, and really enjoyed having her Mom as her friend.

Another week starts in a few hours...I'll get into the office, and try to get back into some kind of "rhythm" there.  More notifications to take care of... go to the veteran's office and see about applying for veterans health benefits. Trying to straighten out the mess with Marilou's car title. HA! another part of finding a new rhythm of life, I guess.

Hmmmm... I wonder what the "rhythm of life" is like where she is at now? Interesting question that I have no idea how to answer...just have to wait to find out

Thursday, September 8, 2011 6:41 PM, PDT

Thursday evening - Marilou's Journal entry from Bazil

This evening I ran across one of Marilou's journal entries from our time in Brazil last year. Please note that very last sentence. The Lord has a way of answering our prayers in ways we can not anticipate.

Monday July 10th - Went to the mountain in the morning. We brought chairs and stayed... This time we felt more of God's presence. There was a quiet, and a shadow. I read some, and sang, and listened to music. I watched the birds circling and flying - I thought, I prayed - I really looked up and on the hill is a cross - Everything was done at the cross - My desire is to fly above all the stuff.

In our time in Brazil last July, Marilou came away with a greater hunger for the manifest presence of God, because she experienced it in real and tangible ways there... many times she shared with me her deepening desire for His presence, and her great burden to see that presence come here to our city of Monroe, Washington, and this Sky Valley area. My prayer is that she still might see that... just from her heavenly perspective. One of the greatest blessings of my life, was to have her there and see the affect that the presence of God brought to her life.
I think in some way, her longing for Him was so deep after those days, that her Heavenly Father could resist her longing no longer and ushered her in to His presence ... where she longed to be. There is not regret for that... it is where we are made to be... in His Presence

Wednesday, September 7, 2011 6:48 PM, PDT

Wednesday - 4 days after...

Words... words can be great things that lift us and transport us to far away worlds of fantasy or adventure. Words can be sharp daggers that injure us and inflict wounds that can last for years. But as I sat tonight and tried to write with tear swollen eyes, Marilou's obituary, I was faced with another truth about words...they can be totally inadequate to truly express the longings, and the depths of the human heart. How is it possible to express the wonder and breadth of a human life in just a few short words? What I wrote seemed so shallow, so superficial. 

But the tasks must be done, the obituary, the phone calls the contacts, banks, insurance, and countless places and parts of the establishment that now need to be notified that this amazing person they never knew is no longer here. I guess it must be one of the crueler parts of death in our culture. 

On the other side of the scale of experiences, it was so good to be together with some pastor friends who meet together on Wednesday mornings. Their hugs and greetings were appreciated and again almost surreal...I had to keep reminding myself what was going on. But their sincere love and care was a genuine oasis for me this morning. Then it was back to the totally mundane things like fixing lunch, trying to get my PC to work... (it hasn't yet). That again mixed with the sweet blessing of the plant that was sent from Bethany Alliance Church in Charles City, IA where we pastored in the early '80's. Wow, what a sweet gesture! The phone call from a pastor friend in Minnesota that I have known since seminary days.

The sweet and the bitter...the comfort of a call, and the tears that come from just looking at a picture. They all mix together in this strange tapestry that God weaves into our lives.

I didn't get the lawn mowed again today, but somehow in the scheme of things... that wasn't really that important...maybe tomorrow (snicker, snicker!!!)

Thanks for the kind words from you who have encouraged me to continue to write here. You are very kind and gracious, and I realize that this is cathartic for me as well, but this began because it was about Marilou. So, probably sooner than later, this journaling will also fade off into the dimness of the past. We will all move on, hopefully changed and effected in some way by a life that from my perspective anyway, ended far too soon

Monday, September 5, 2011 8:05 PM, PDT

Monday Night, Day 2

Labor Day evening... I took a walk this morning, and talked by phone  with a couple friends from way back. Actually both I've known since Viet Nam days.
Walked two times around the lake at a pretty good pace... needed to just work out a little bit.

Cooked a hamburger for lunch, and had one of Marilou's suger free Jello's. she didn't like the taste.

Sat out on the deck a couple times, and started looking through pictures to use for the memorial service on the 24th.

My PC is having some problems, so my good friend from Brainerd, MN is helping with some of that. And I got invited over for a "guys night" with Brandon Springer and his three boys. Thanks Brandon, that was really nice. My first time in the new my new role as "Grampa Steve." One of my goals in this chapter of life is to be a loving and caring "Grampa" to any kids I am around, so I can shine Jesus for them.

But reality is like ocean waves, they come in, and go out, and this varies with the tides. I had a great, great time with Brandon and the boys, and as I drove toward home, the wave of reality hit me... I'm going home, but Marilou will not be there to greet me. I will not be able to tell her what a great time we had trying to knock foam swords out the the tree. Or having pizza and roast corn together. It's one of those waves that remind you that in order to stand firm against these kind of waves, you must have your foundation firm on the solid rock of God.

And now I am wondering how long to keep this journal going. It's intention was to update our friends on what was going on with Marilou. Well, I'm afraid I no longer have enough information to update you on how she's doing, except that I know she is far beyond all of the cares and sorrows of this life, and for that I am eternally grateful.  In Jesus, there is hope beyond what we see, and Paul reminds us in his letter to the Corinthians that what is seen is only temporary, and what is unseen is eternal...so those undulating waves... they too are only temporary, and for that, I am very thankful.

Before I close here, I was looking at the last page of Our Daily Bread that Marilou had read before she could not read anymore because of the tiredness and sleepiness. It was for July 21, "Pain No More" from I Corinthians 15:51-57...here is a portion of what she read that day - "Where is God when it hurts? He has been there from the beginning. He designed a pain system that, in the midst of a fallen world, bears His stamp. He transforms pain, using it to teach and strengthen us if we allow it to turn us toward Him."
I say "YES" to you, Lord

Monday, September 5, 2011 11:21 AM, PDT

Dancing? Is that allowed?

I had a good nights rest last night, the first in a long time... put on some Robin Mark, and as I was playing "Garments of Praise," I danced in the living room... thinking of how she is now so free to worship and dance with that great cloud of witnesses. Thinking of how she asked that her memorial service be a time of celebration, and she so loved seeing the children up front dancing and worshiping, that's one of the things she wanted.

All details are not completely worked out but we will have the Memorial service on Saturday, September 24th... it's looking now like 3:00 pm at Monroe Community Chapel, 23515 Old Owen Rd, Monroe, WA 98272

More details will follow.

I took two laps around Lake Tye this morning...she loved to walk around that lake... and I am not going to crawl up in some hole somewhere...oh that would make her so mad!!!

Thanks again for all your prayers and support. You all are such a blessings, and this is really what the body of Christ  is all about.... Thank you, Thank you.

More later...

Sunday, September 4, 2011 4:46 PM, PDT

The Day After... and thanks for praying!!

What do you do the day after your loving spouse of almost 40 years leaves this earth for eternity? Good Question! I'm not sure I really know the answer to  that one. As for me and my house... I took Jonathan and Carol to the airport to fly back to Columbus, Ohio on separate flights. Jonathan had a long layover in Minneapolis, so he connected with some friends and visited the grave site of his Grandfather Loopstra. He left a picture of Marilou and a piece from a prayer scarf that Carol took as a memento.

After dropping them at the airport, Jodan (our adopted daughter) headed to Seattle to have breakfast with Esther and Tony and hang out for a while.
Then I came back home, washed the sheets and cleaned the frig.

I have to tell you a little story that I think is just a token of God's loving care for us. ---- The first day that we came here to look at this house together... it was the very first day it was even on the market, I walked over to the dining room window, and there, was a hummingbird feeding in the bush right outside the window.
Yesterday... right after Marilou went to be with her Jesus, I walked downstairs, and looked out the dining room window, and there in that bush, was a hummingbird.  At least to me, our precious Father was telling me that, yes, He is watching out for us.

What do you two days after your loving spouse of almost 40 years leaves to be with Jesus? I'm not really sure, but I know Jesus and I will do it together.

We have set September 24th as the day of her Memorial Celebration. It's Jonathan's birthday. After talking it over, he is really ok with that and feels it would be so appropriate to celebrate her eternal life on the day she brought him into the world.

How can I express my utmost thanks to all of your for your prayers and kind, loving comments here. I read them all to Marilou before she left, and my heart is full of gratitude for each post you have left, and each prayer that is prayed. It seems so inadequate, but THANKS!!!