The Things I Talk to God About

My grieving process has noticeably gone through various stages these past ten months. It started out raw, filled with the shock of finality mingled with relief; the wracking sobs juxtaposed with the joy that Daniel was whole and so utterly happy.

During these past few months, my grief still contains near daily bouts of tears, and hard waves of grief coming a few times a week. Still, several times every day, tears well up in my eyes as I think about how much I miss Daniel.

I'm in the middle of my first "ten-day gauntlet," I call it -- the first Christmas season. It started with Daniel's birthday on the 17th and ends with the 27th, our anniversary. It's most of the major "firsts" in a matter of days. I don't know how much energy I'll have for being with people in the midst of my ever-present grief. It's not that I'm expecting to be miserable; it's just that I'm tentative to expect something more than what I actually experience, which would just disappoint me even more than I already am with God's plan.

There. I wrote it.

That is part of how I'm feeling. I'm disappointed that God didn't give me (in this life) more time with such an amazing man who was the perfect match for me.

As I contemplate the possibility of marrying again, while part of me is hopeful, the other part remembers all of the intricate facets of my relationship with Daniel -- how well-suited we were for each other. And it's impossible for me to really imagine that kind of connection with anyone else.

Thus, I'm exceedingly disappointed that our perfect match was so short-lived, especially when I need him so profoundly. I need his spiritual leadership, his acceptance and encouragement, his wisdom, his joy and sense of humor, his being a father to my children, his arms to hold me.

My heart is shattered at our separation for the remainder of this life. My heart feels raw, gaping open and hemorrhaging. My daily life often just feels like I'm trying to survive and get through the day. Yes, teach and train the kids -- that's my primary role that's still so important -- but I feel like I'm simply treading water while trying to juggle. Even with having the important role of "mom," I feel like so much of life is aimless.

When Daniel died, so did our dreams together. There is so much less joy now that I don't have him with whom to dream and plan together. We were on this wonderful adventure together, and it was exhilarating living it by his side. Many evenings as we chatted about even little things in our living room, I would just think to myself how blessed I was to have such an amazing husband. I loved encouraging him, helping and supporting him, being so proud of him. I loved him. I always will.

This is why I feel so disappointed -- that what felt like just the beginning of a decades-long adventure was cut so short; what had just begun already ended.

It feels like the building of a great piece of music, flowing and soft with intricate melodies and harmonies. The symphony envelops you and carries you along. You're enraptured by it and you eagerly anticipate the weaving together of the beautiful, unique melodies.

Then a minor key filled with dissonance and foreboding. Then, mid-note, the players stop, close their books and haphazardly leave the stage. The piece will never be finished; the crescendo you longed for will never be played. It was never even composed. Utter disappointment.

I feel so incredibly sad that what should have been will never be. My children will never have Daniel to raise them. He had prepared for so long to be a godly father throughout all the stages of child-rearing, but he only had a few healthy years at it. Kezia wasn't even a year old when daddy was in so much pain and was forced to step back from being the involved father he so longed to be. She won't even remember what it was like having daddy home! That breaks my heart further.

A nativity scene that Daniel started carving. It will never be finished.

--

All of this is what I talk to God about. I'm honest with Him. I cry out to Him in my pain, sadness, and broken-heartedness. And just like my prayers, I cannot leave this entry without reminding myself and you of the truth I know for certain even in the midst of all of these feelings.

I know that:
- God is still on His throne, sovereign over all
- God is not surprised by the events that have disappointed me so much, nor by my disappointment
- God is the ultimate Composer, speaking ALL of creation into existence, and He's not done revealing the notes and harmonies He wrote before all of time even began
- My relationship with Daniel isn't over -- it is merely the intermission, and the second part will be even better than the first. No comparison!

The Global Family of Christ

Over and over again throughout my life, I have been struck by the beautiful unity of the family of believers in Jesus Christ no matter where we live. When I was a teenager, I went on several missions trips, and that's when I really first experienced the unique oneness that is automatically there when two believers meet for the first time. It didn't matter that we came from completely different cultures or didn't even speak the same language. We were family because we both knew our need of a Saviour and had the precious gift of the Holy Spirit.

It's that unity that has blessed me once again -- this time through my Compassion sponsor child. For the past three years, my family and I have been sponsoring a now 17 year old in Uganda. She is a precious young woman of God who is devoted to the Lord and preaching His Word in the poor agricultural area in which she lives.

I recently received a letter from her; it was her response to my letter informing her of Daniel's death. I had told her last year of his serious illness and asked for prayer. She and her family and friends have been praying for us -- so humbling.

Her response was so encouraging and empathetic. She told me that she and her family will continue to pray for me and my kids as we go on without Daniel, and she wonderfully reminded me that we will all be together in Heaven one day. To see those words written by a teenager across the world were so comforting, and they continue to make me praise God for the hope we have in Him.

Something she said that really impacted me was "our beloved Daniel." Even though we're a world away, because we are one in Christ there is an amazing God-given love and empathy we have for otherwise strangers. I praise God for her and her faithful prayers.

This blog too has been reaching people across the globe. Google tells me from which countries people are reading it. Many in Russia, the Ukraine, throughout Europe, South America, and a few here and there in quite random countries. It is my prayer that those international readers to whom I am otherwise a stranger would be affected by the Holy Spirit through what He has been teaching me in this trial.

May God be glorified.

A Day of Remembrance

Today, November 11^th, is the day we remember the men and women who went before us and fought to give us and guard our freedom. And for their sacrifice I am so thankful.

Nov. 11 is also a special anniversary for me for a completely different reason. It became a very special day to Daniel, to the point where he treated it nearly as important as our wedding anniversary. He would commemorate the day by giving me a handmade card and flowers. Even last year while in the hospital, he arranged a bouquet and a card to surprise me with when I visited him that evening.

So, you ask, why was the day so special?

It goes back to 1998. I was fifteen. It was another Wednesday just like today. Just like every other Wednesday evening, I attended Youth Group at church. Having “graduated” to Sr. High a few months earlier, a few friends and I decided to go visit the Jr. High room across the church and say hi to our former youth pastor. It was after the main program of the evening so we asked him what the Jr. High’s did that evening.

He said they talked about purity and abstinence and the importance of saving ourselves for our future spouse. These principles were quite familiar to us, and my friends and I all adhered to them. What was different was what my youth pastor did to help the youth to remember what was taught that evening – he handed out key necklaces. They were just random keys, cut and uncut, on black cords. They were meant to symbolize the key to our heart and that one person alone, our future spouse, had the right and privilege to open up our deep affection. My friends and I kind of felt like we missed out (being in Sr. High now), so we each asked for our own necklace. He happily obliged. We all put on our necklaces.

I don’t know what my friends did with those necklaces or whether they held any significance from that day on, but I know for me mine did. I remember going home and reading through my previous journal entry from Thanksgiving a month earlier:

“Dear Future Husband,

“Hi, how are you? I’m 15 and in grade 10. I was just wondering what you’re like. Have we met yet or are you still ‘down the line’? Where are you right now, how old are you and what are you doing?

“I was just listening to Jaci Velasquez’s song, ‘I Promise’. That is what spurred me to write to you for the first time. I plan on saving myself for you and I pray you are saving yourself for me. I believe that’s the best gift you can give to your spouse.

“It’s Thanksgiving and I wanted to let you know that years before we actually get married, I’m praying for you and I am thanking God for you. I can’t wait until I know who you are and when God’s almighty plan is revealed. I pray that you are, even now, a Christian and you are growing steadily in your Christian walk with God….”

-- and writing in my journal that night:

“Dear Diary,

“Today at Gap, I received a necklace with a key on it – the key to my heart. I plan to wear it as much as possible. I am committed to saving myself sexually for my future husband and this key is a sign of my commitment to that promise.”

I then took the journal up under my chin and laid the key on the page and carefully traced around it.

I would end up wearing that key for the next ten plus years. During those years, I was careful to not lose the necklace and never take it off. It wasn’t a matter of superstition, but of doing my best to invest that key with meaning and intentionality for my future husband. Even when I changed chains I still wore it. When I chose bathing suits, they were high-necked so the necklace wouldn’t come off in the water.

Yes, maybe a little strange, but my hope was my husband would feel loved when I gave it to him when we were married. I wondered if it would all be worth it – if my gift would be valued. I hoped.

Fast forward nine years. Daniel and I were getting to know each other. Daniel told me later that even though it was early in our relationship, he had been forming a strong attachment to me. Sometime during those early months, I told him the story and meaning of my key. When I told him, the emotion that came into his eyes – the hope that the key would be for him, and if it was, the value he gave my gift – was clearly evident.

Over the next year plus of our courtship and engagement, and it became clear that he would be the one who would receive my wedding present, whenever someone would ask about my necklace or when we gave a talk at youth camp that summer and I mentioned it, Daniel would just weep with the joy of knowing he had been valued enough by me for me to spend so much time and thought investing in his gift. It overwhelmed him.

During our engagement, I arranged to have lunch with Daniel and that youth pastor. I thanked him for the opportunity he gave me to show love to Daniel in such a special way, and informed him that I hadn’t taken the necklace off since. He was surprised. He had no idea that little visual aid idea would turn into something so meaningful. Both he and Daniel wept at God’s goodness. Tears filled my own eyes as I was able to encourage a man who helped me grow so much in my walk with God. Daniel so appreciated the chance to thank him personally.

Our wedding day came. After the wonderful celebration, we retreated back to our basement suite in Fort Langley, and by the light of the fireplace I lifted my necklace over my head for the first time, placed it in Daniel’s hand, and covered it over with his fingers. “I’m yours.” He wept with joy and thanked me.

It remained such a special reminder to him that he insisted on putting it under his pillow. When we moved that first year, as soon as we finished making the bed, it was the first thing he put back. Sometimes I would catch him looking at it late at night. And here I had merely hoped that my husband would appreciate it. It’s yet another example of how God exceeded my hopes and expectations in Daniel.

Today, I keep the key necklace in my safe, intertwined with Daniel’s wedding ring, and I thank God for the wonderful memories.

Choosing to Be Thankful

On this weekend, the Canadian Thanksgiving holiday, we are reminded to be grateful for the blessings God gives us.

In the midst of immense loss, it would be all too easy for me to focus on what I no longer have or the trials that I've been forced to endure. I am still emotionally processing all of the suffering I saw Daniel go through and went through myself. Plus, I am slowly journeying through the different stages of grieving for my beloved husband -- a lifelong process. 

But through it all I have chosen to be thankful. And while that choice is inherently an act of my will, it is only possible by the empowering of the Holy Spirit and the confidence in the hope I have in Jesus Christ. 

There's a lot I just said there, so let me unpack it. 

It's easy for me to choose to be thankful when life is going pretty well, when things have settled into a fairly even "normal," and there's nothing too hard to deal with. The temptation, however, is to take all of it for granted and start assuming that that's the way it should be because I've earned it. 

The flip side is when things get difficult and a challenge arises, and that's when I tend to start to complain. God has been teaching me to get to the point of choosing thankfulness faster, no matter the circumstance. So whether things are going relatively smoothly (and I battle a false sense of independence and entitlement) or another challenge comes up (and the battle of sinful resentment along with it), I need to use my will to intentionally be thankful to God despite my feelings. 

And then, yes, my feelings sluggishly follow.

I would like to share with you a story: a few years before I met Daniel, he went through a period of debilitating depression. Some very discouraging things in his life at that time brought it on and he spiraled down into a place of numbness and hopelessness. He took time off work, saw a doctor, began meds, had counseling, and started working through the complicated factors contributing to his condition. 

While all of those things helped his symptoms to a certain degree (though the meds created more problems which had to be dealt with), he told me that there were three things that really enabled him to climb out of that dark pit, gasping for fresh air. The first two were meditating on the Bible and intense, honest prayer.

The truth of the Bible informed his thinking, battling the almost-truths he had begun to believe and internalize. Prayer was a salve on his weary soul, turning his suffocating burdens over to the only One Who was powerful enough -- and yet gentle enough -- to handle them and actually do something about them. 

The third thing was his "Thankful List." As an outworking of what he was learning, he started a little list which he would pray through and thank God for each day. The only things he allowed on that list were the things in his life for which he was truly thankful. He refused to put on the list the things he was merely supposed to be thankful for just because that's what a good Christian does. Through prayer, he had to wade through the mire of his twisted feelings and cling to what he knew was actually true; only then could he be thankful for those things despite his feelings. That's when they went on the list.

Over the following weeks and months, his list grew and became too long and cumbersome for one day's prayer time. So, he started another...then another. Soon he had a list for each day of the week, which he programmed into his smartphone to pop up throughout the day to remind himself.

And thus, battling the lies of the depression he was in was largely won by choosing to be thankful for God's Word, His hope, and the many blessings in Daniel's life. It was a daily battle that had to be fought intentionally and with perseverance. And he never stopped. He had learned that once one had faced depression it was very easy to fall back into it. So he continued to guard against his tendency by praying through those Thankful Lists for years to come, even through all of our marriage.

Daniel wrote to me last year that the main reason he didn't fall into depression during his intense suffering with cancer was because God had prepared his heart and mind during that time several years ago. He already had his weapons bared and sharpened for this much tougher battle, and by the Holy Spirit's empowering he had the strength to wield them even as his body failed.

And so, whether my gratefulness is expressed quietly throughout my daily decisions or declared out loud at night during bouts of grief between sobs, it is through Daniel's inspiration and example that I too choose to be thankful for the hope that I have in Jesus Christ -- to live this life well to the glory of God.

A second "spring" in my backyard with flowers blooming again. Praise God for the hope we have in Him!

Past, Present, and Future

Today marks six months since Daniel was called home to Heaven. In some ways it doesn’t seem like it could have been that long. In other ways it feels like it’s been far, far longer since I was last with my best friend. These six months have been filled with a lot of reflection, many emotions, and much planning for the future.

The grief of not being with my beloved husband continues to be a daily companion. I say companion because even though the emotional waves are exhausting and just so hard to face each and every day – sometimes several times a day – my grief draws me closer to my Lord. Why? Because I have chosen to inform my grief with God’s truth. I have been immersing myself in Scripture and, thus, the Holy Spirit is changing the way I think and process. And so, every time another wave washes over me I embrace the grief and use it as another opportunity to draw nearer to God, ask Him my questions, praise Him that Daniel is so utterly joyful at that very moment, thank Him for the hope I have in Him too, and ask for the Holy Spirit to comfort me once again. He never fails.

The kids and I talk about daddy every day in little ways here and there. Josiah has taken a cue from me in his prayers and tells God that while he’s sad that daddy isn’t here, he’s so happy that daddy is with Him. Kezia’s face lights up when she sees photos of daddy and she knows it’s him.

We’re planning on moving across town in the next six months or so (part of the planning for the future I’ve been doing), and so I’ve been doing a lot of projects around the house to make the most of my time and investment. But the main reason I have been inventing projects is so I can keep my hands busy while I listen to rich sermons (specifically more John MacArthur). I am endeavouring to make the most of this season to not only accomplish goals by learning new skills and working with my hands, but by using my otherwise mostly empty evenings to get to know Jesus better and the people whom He worked through in Scripture. It has been so enriching.

I did spend several evenings in July as a mentor as a part of the Summer Advanced Leadership Training (SALT) program at Timberline. I was paired with a lovely 16-year-old, and I shared with her my story and she hers. I trust our conversations will help her as she grows into who God has called her to be. I know for me it was wonderful being back at TR and being part of the ministry to which my husband was so deeply devoted.

For those of you who would like to continue to pray for my family and I, first of all, thank you! My requests are that the upcoming transitions would be smooth. I am also starting homeschooling next month – yes, Josiah is entering kindergarten! And that the timing of the sale of my house would match well with moving. I am so thankful for the way God is providing for us and I continue to trust He will in the future. All for His Glory!


I took a few little videos of the kids singing at last night's bedtime. Both songs were popular choices at campfire and a few of daddy's favorites to sing to them.

 

Leaving a Legacy

Even with this heat I've been keeping busy with projects, finding excuses to keep my hands occupied while I listen to rich sermons. I've listened to a few hundred in Luke so far, verse by verse. Amazing depth and truth.

The kids are keeping me busy too, of course. I'm daily endeavoring to teach them and train them. I started a "Good Choices" chart for Josiah to help him learn how to make good choices when I'm not around to remind him. I'm finding it hard though, in general, to not have back-up and Daddy around to spell me off when I need it. I haven't had that for a long time already, and it's still hard. Please pray for wisdom, patience, and strength to be a good single mom.

During one of my many organizing/sorting projects, I came across Daniel's Chapel binder. He was often the speaker at Chapel and Campfire at Timberline for summer or seasonal camps. He had filled a binder with his collection of notes, illustrations, and ideas for putting together his talks. One of the things in the binder were his Timberline New Year's "Legacy Letters." In 2006 and 2007, he wrote a letter to himself during the TR New Year's camp which, as part of the activity, the staff and campers were then given/mailed back the next New Year's. In the letter, they were instructed to write about what they would want their legacy to be and use it as a time to reflect on any positive changes they should make moving forward.

I'd like to share with you Daniel's letters:

My Legacy, 2006 

I want to receive a hug from Jesus. I want Him to say, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

I want:
- my selfishness to die
- to truly love God with everything and love others
- learn cello
- live a life out of energy and not out of tiredness
- to say "no" to more things so I can do this ---^
- others to see Christ (in me), not me
- a partner to serve God with
- strong friendships

[On the other side of the letter, he wrote phrases of what he wanted people to say of him in life and death:]

"He followed God."
"He loved people deeply."
"God was so strong in his weakness."
"He cared."
"God used him to change my life."
"He is a real friend."
"To know him is like knowing Christ."

Leaving a Legacy, 2007

Praise God!!! You have done so much in 2007. You have made me a better leader. I was able to work less crazy hours and that made me healthier. You brought the most amazing, beautiful woman into my life. The more I get to know her the more I like. You know what You're doing. I pray that Evelyn and I would bring you glory and we depend on You. I want to marry her, but I ask for Your will to be done. Help me to be patient. Help me to never put her before You. Thank you, God, for what You have done in our relationship and for bringing us together. Would You please make this last for life. God, I want to serve You the rest of my life with Evelyn.

YOUR WILL BE DONE!!!
______________________________________________________________________________




What changes do I need to make?

- Continue to be more and more dependent on God
- Become a better listener
- Spend more time in God's Word  
- Honour others' time by being on time


"Search me, oh God, and know my heart. Test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me into the way everlasting."


Things I would like people to say of me when I'm gone:

- "He really listened to me and cared."
- "I felt God's love through him."
- "Praise God for what He did in and through Daniel."
- "I want to follow Jesus like he did."
- "He loved me unconditionally."
- "I'm a better person for knowing him because God used him in my life."
- "He loved others and me with only a love that could come from God."
- "His life was characterized by patience, kindness...."
- "He was real."
- "I could trust him."
- "He followed God."
- "He loved God so much."
_____________________________________________________________________________

What I want to hear from God:

"Well done, good and faithful servant."
"I love you."
"You are mine."
"I gave myself for you."


-------------
-------------

I can honestly and heartily say all of those phrases about Daniel.

And so, dear reader, I ask you and myself the same questions. What kind of legacy should we leave? What do we want people to say of us both now and when we're no longer here? What do we want God to say to us when we meet Him? Will you meet Him in grace or in judgement? While this life is but a mere speck in light of eternity, the choices we make here determine where we will spend that eternity and to what degree of fullness of worship to God we will have in Heaven if we are Christ's.

Daniel's life is an amazing example of how a flawed, imperfect, and weak man was used by God in immeasurable ways to show God's love to others and bring glory to Himself.

Oh, would that be said of all of us.

Father's Day

Today I have especially been reflecting on how great a dad Daniel was to Josiah and Kezia. Even though Kezia wasn't even a year by the time Daniel's cancer became debilitating, they both were so blessed to have his loving example and care in their young lives. I know I was so blessed to have him help me so much with them, whether it was the middle of the night for feeds or taking them to the park so I could have some rest -- after he worked all day.

Daniel was a selfless man; no, not perfect, but in complete reliance on God's grace and mercy he reflected how God is our Heavenly Father so well to our kids. He leaves such a big hole in so many ways, and by God's mercy and comfort we continue on. We miss him so much, yet we also have so much to be thankful for for the man God made Daniel and the wonderful time He gave us together.

Josiah's 2nd birthday, June 2012

 

Kezia's 1st birthday, February 2014

Cemetery Marker

The kids and I went back to the cemetery earlier this week again to check if the marker had been installed yet. I had checked a few times before and finally it was there. I am pleased with how it turned out. I think it reflects Daniel well, reminding all of us what is really important.

Although I explained to the kids what the marker was and why we were visiting the cemetery, they're still too young to fully grasp the differing layers of what it means to lose their daddy. I explain what I can at their level, but I'm so thankful for the grace God is giving them and for their innocence during these hard days. I'm sure as they get older, there will be many tough conversations with them as to why God let this happen. I'm just so thankful Christianity has solid answers to hold on to. Tough questions about suffering and why God allows it pose no threat to my faith, but rather make it all the more real.

PS: If you so generously provided us with meals and have yet to pick up your dishes, please contact me. I will be donating what is left to charity in a few weeks. Thank you!

Family Update Through Photos

I wanted to share a general update about how the kids and I are doing and what's been going on in our lives as we build a new sense of "normal" in our lives during this season.

This is a photo blanket done up by the funeral home. They order one for each of their clients. I think it turned out amazingly, and the caption chosen by whoever ordered it is so perfect. What a treasure.

A few weeks ago, the kids and I joined 1,250 others and enjoyed Timberline Ranch's Annual Family Festival. The kids even went on the pony rides! The last time Josiah had been on a horse was as a two-year-old with Daddy, and he pretty much screamed the whole time. Now at four, it took a few tries (Josiah ran away the first time), but once he got used to the idea and he went up...

 ...Kezia followed her big brother too! 

I was treated to a very special Mother's Day Tea at the young widow's support group I have started attending at a church in the area. The 16 of us were pampered with fine china teacups, a silver tea service, and an always full cup. It's so wonderful to meet with a group of others like me once

a month and to get to know moms who really know what I'm going through.

With the beautiful weather returning, the kids and I have been on a lot of walks at the various parks mere minutes from our home. Here we're up at Golden Ears Provincial Park, and Josiah is trying to skip rocks while Kezia is hamming it up for the camera. Kind of looks like a selfie doesn't it?

This is one of Daniel's and my favourite spots where we spent 

many outings before and after getting married.

Many of you have expressed a continued desire to pray for my family and I. Thank you! The biggest requests are clear direction in major decisions, continued healing of the rawness of my grief amidst the hole that Daniel has left, provision for all of our needs, and for continued empowerment to serve and honour God for His Kingdom purposes and ultimate glory.

Treasure Hunting

Yesterday I spent most of my free time (while the kids were sleeping) going through Daniel’s books. He had a great collection of resources: theology and doctrine, Christian reference, relationship building, family centred, apologetics, biographies of Christian missionaries, C. S. Lewis and Tolkien, and even many on juggling, magic tricks, and story-telling.

That crammed six-foot bookshelf (and the overflow throughout the house) was a microcosm of his many and varied interests. As a true home schooler, he loved to go to the thrift store and search through the book section to uncover books that could teach him something he wanted to learn. One of Daniel’s attributes I most loved about him was his constant quest to improve – himself, his systems at work, our family life, our home, etc. His initiative to strive for God-honouring progress in all areas of life was and still is inspiring to me. I think that quality was one of the major things that contributed to his far-reaching impact.

Daniel’s mom mentioned an anecdote to me this week. Over the years, she told her neighbour friend about Daniel, whom she never met, and many of the things he was interested in and accomplishing. The friend thought she was just another mom bragging about her son, as it seemed a little over the top. The friend came to Daniel’s memorial service and remarked to her afterwards, “You didn’t say enough!”

Going through the shelves, some of the treasures I found were his journals and Bible Study workbooks. Many of the journal entries I read were actually prayers. Reading how Daniel expressed his heart to God before I knew him, his desires for a wife, to make a difference, and to do more to bring God glory was wonderful to reflect on, though bittersweet. The sorting process was definitely emotionally draining for me, but good.

Two things he wrote I wanted to share with you. They were in a Bible Study workbook on prayer from around ’04-‘06. One of the chapters taught on Heaven and then encouraged writing down reflections and then a prayer based on the chapter’s theme. The first part was the statement: Write down two things you think will be special about heaven, and that make you happy you are going to be there. First, Daniel circled one of the author’s answers: ‘Heaven will be a place of perfect peace with none of the cares of life that frustrate us.’ The answers he then wrote were:

1. Being able to have a face to face, growing relationship with Jesus (and not fail Him anymore).

2. Being able to worship God with a pure heart, mind, and soul.

And then this is the prayer he wrote:

It's hard to express how comforting and amazing it is to read about his hopes and dreams about Heaven, and to know through the truth of God's Word and the comfort of the Holy Spirit that his dreams are being far exceeded right now. Praise God.

Something's Missing

Over the past several weeks, I have been trying to identify and process a feeling I have. It seems like half of me is missing. I feel like several emotional limbs have been severed and I keep experiencing their loss over and over again.

It’s not just that my best friend, husband, and co-equal in our labour for Christ is gone, it’s that part of me went with him when he was called home to Heaven. It’s such a strange feeling to have my best friend gone from here but knowing he is literally worshipping God in His glorious presence at this very moment. The godly man with whom I shared every part of life is now being blessed with utter intimacy with our Lord, praising Him beyond how he had always dreamed.

This has had a profound impact on me. I look at life differently, and my goals are more refined. I interpret life – decisions, values, everyday life – in a more focused way; a sort of “Heaven lens.” The way I interact with friends, with new Christian acquaintances, with unbelievers around me – there’s a different focus. I am more able to be intentional with getting to the important things, being more gently and genuinely up front about God and His work in my life, and with seeing people in general more the way God sees them, in light of eternity. Yes, I still have a long way to go as Christ keeps refining me, but I am so very thankful for how God has already been changing me through this crucible.

Yesterday, I attended a strata meeting for my townhouse complex. I sat with two ladies – one I just met and the other I knew very little. In the course of our conversation, I mentioned my recent bereavement. Their faces fell and their lungs deflated, and they offered their sincere condolences. But as usual for me now, I never let it stay there for long. I broke into a big smile and said how happy I am for Daniel that he is with Jesus, and how amazing God has been in His faithfulness and provision for me. Yes, I said, it’s so hard, but God is good.

The one lady whom I knew a little said, “Oh, your husband was the guy who worked at Timberline, right?” She said when her daughter first saw him several years ago around the complex, she had excitedly told her mother, “Mom! You’ll never guess who lives here now! Stringy!!!” Daniel had gotten that reaction from several kids around our neighbourhood.

The lady I just met said she admired my strength. She said if that ever happened to her husband, she knows she would turn bitter and resentful. Both indicated they didn’t understand how I could be so strong. I told them plainly, “The only way to get through this is with Christ. There is no way otherwise.” They were glad I had my way, and the conversation moved on and the meeting started. I trust God will use that encounter in their lives for His glory.

Memorial Service video

It’s been nearly two months since Daniel went to Heaven, and just over a year since his cancer diagnosis, and thus when this blog started. This week I was thumbing through those first few posts and, wow, I had forgotten a lot. So much has happened during this past year.

A few of you have asked if I’m journaling through this process – well, you’re reading it. Daniel and I had chosen to be open, honest, and vulnerable from the start, not only to share specific prayer requests, but in hopes that God would use that openness for His purposes. It is so encouraging to learn of the (no doubt) mere sampling of how He has been using this. So, thank you for your encouraging words.

I have finally succeeded in uploading the video of Daniel’s Memorial Service. Although there were around 700 people who attended, I know there are many, many people who wished they could attend but were prevented because of work, geography, etc. So, here it is for you to share in. Thank you again to all who played a part in making that day so meaningful.

Daniel's Memorial Service video 

Going Back

It has been nearly two weeks since my last post. Life has been a mix of taking care of more details with Daniel's passing, continuing to form a new "normal" for however long that will last, accomplishing projects for my own sanity (cleaning and organizing, etc.), but also a lot of loneliness. Don't get me wrong, though; I have been so thankful for all of the support, encouragement, and welcoming smiles around me -- and all of that helps so much. But part of this grieving process is a profound sense of loneliness. Daniel was such an amazing husband and father, best friend and spiritual leader, that his death has left a huge hole in my heart and life. Only God can comfort me in those waves of missing him and begin to heal my heart as I remember the good times and try to imagine being that happy again. At the same time, however, I remember that life isn't about my happiness, but bringing glory to the God I serve.

Daniel's things from his hospital room were dropped off this week by the friends who emptied his room for me the day he passed away. I have spent some time going through the things, and I tell you, it's pretty hard. He kept a lot of his papers, for example, with his conversations with people -- the important ones that conveyed his feelings and stories. He kept them I think so he could refer back to them later. It's interesting reading through these one-sided conversations, and often just being overcome by his faith and his strength. Oh, how I miss him!

A week and a half ago, I visited the ward for the first time since the day Daniel's body died. I went on my own, having wanted to go back and say thank you for a long time but didn't have the opportunity with babysitting. Walking down the hall towards the first nurse I saw who had taken care of Daniel, I wasn't prepared for the wave of emotion that hit me. Daniel's passing was such an abrupt change to that very hard season of "normal," going from spending just about every evening at the hospital with him for seven months, to not being there at all and thus, not seeing any of those nurses either. Seeing the three familiar faces who were there that day was good but hard. I'm so glad I got the chance to say thank you and to pass along my thanks through them to the other nurses. One of the key nurses had been transferred down to Emerg. so I went down there on my way out. She wasn't on so I left a note.

The nurse who took my info said I was very brave to come back. I needed to. I knew I needed this closure. I then went back to the van and let out the emotion. Going back for this visit was painful and emotionally exhausting, yes, but I needed to do it so I could say another layer of goodbye -- not to Daniel, but to this extremely trying season through which God has sought to mature me. I am a better person because of it, and I rejoice in knowing God has been glorified through it, but I am still a battered, broken woman who has a big, raw hole in my heart that I am trusting God with to fill and heal. He knows what He is doing.

Here are a few excerpts of the notes Daniel left. I keep going back to them to remind myself of God's faithfulness -- so in that way, Daniel is certainly still being a spiritual leader.

The Ring

Tomorrow, March 18, marks one month since Daniel passed away. Already. As much as I incredibly miss him, I am always intentional about also thinking about how much Heaven is a much better place for him -- the best place. God is so faithful in His comfort. God is teaching me that the importance of our relationships on Earth pale to the all-consuming importance of our relationship with Christ. When He calls us home, to be with Him is far better.


I've been enjoying this beautiful spring-like weather with Josiah and Kezia. We went for a walk with a friend and her kids yesterday on the dyke, and I took the kids to a favorite park last week, Cliff Park. Here are some snapshots:

 

As I often find myself reflecting on many of the special times I was blessed to have with Daniel, I wanted to share with you the story of my engagement ring. This photo was taken the day we got engaged, May 26, 2008.

The month prior to our engagement, Daniel and I went ring shopping. Once I picked out my favorites, we decided that Daniel would surprise me with the final choice. After settling on the store we wanted to purchase from, I went with my mom to pick out my top rings. Then Daniel and I went back so I could show him my favorites and tell him why I liked them. He had out his pen and paper and took notes, though he told me later that after I showed him the ring above he only pretended to take notes on the other rings. He knew that was the one.

The reason why is the story I want to share.

Daniel picked this ring because of the symbolism with which he invested it. It's a three-stone ring, one larger diamond flanked by two very small ones. When you look at the ring, the centre stone is by far what catches your eye first.

The centre stone represents Christ, while he and I are represented by the two small stones. Daniel wanted the ring to always remind us of the importance of living in such a way that Christ is the obvious centre of our lives and we take a backseat to Him.

Not only was the design of the ring significant, but he took it one step further. The actual diamonds he chose were important. Starting with the centre diamond, the sales associate brought one out and showed its quality to him under the microscope, but he rejected it because it wasn't clear enough. Then she had to take it back to the vault and sign another out. He did this several times, even to the point of annoying the associate! That was rather bold of Daniel, because if you knew him you know that he hated being a bother to anyone. He was adamant, however, that the centre diamond be as pure and clear as possible as it represented Christ.

In contrast, he specifically asked for the two small side stones to be flawed and marred, just as we are. He wanted the centre stone to be unrivaled in its beauty and resilience. He wanted it to be obvious which stone was the most important.

Throughout Daniel's journey through cancer, because he couldn't speak he would take my hand, point to my ring, and look into my eyes as if to say, "Remember."

I will.

A Surprise from Daniel

I was putting things away in my china cabinet and took out the ring box I have displayed there. I opened it to this: a few years ago Daniel made a scavenger hunt for me all over the house, hiding squares of Ritter Sport chocolate with a x or an o which I would then "redeem" for the corresponding hug or kiss. He hid so many I was finding them for months after; now years. He was such an amazing husband.

It hurts that I won't be able to redeem this one...

The grieving process

It continues to be a busy few weeks for me, taking care of a lot of details because of Daniel's passing. But first I want to say a big thank-you to so many of you who are still faithfully serving God by helping me and my kids. Thank you for the babysitting, meals, funds, prayers, and acts of service. It means so very much, especially during this still very new period of grieving.

The funeral home coordinator gave me a standard six page checklist of all the things that need to be addressed when someone dies -- basically to close down the person's life. So, I've been dealing with government, banks, credit cards, vehicle insurance, phone stuff, land title stuff, and life insurance. Plus I've ordered the cemetery marker. There is still lots to do as I need to file income taxes and redo my will now, but wow, I am so glad we did our wills and bought life insurance when we bought our townhouse. God continues to provide.

So, that's the busyness of my days, though I'm being careful to pace myself and not try to do too much in a day. I'm building in things I enjoy doing, and I'm being intentional to not try to drown the grief with distractions. I have my healthy ups and downs, giving all of my emotions to God and allowing myself to miss him and grieve ... but with hope! I have continued to fill my mind with God's Word. There is an aspect, however, of having been grieving for a year already. With each new loss of Daniel's strength and ability since January 2014 especially, I have been grieving so intensely for what seems like so long.

For the past several months, each time I would say goodbye to Daniel and leave his hospital room, I was saying my final goodbyes. With his condition, there were so many unknowns and I knew I might not see him alive again. I said final goodbyes to my love twice a day for month after month. So yes, I have been grieving a lot already. But while Daniel was alive, of course, it was a different kind of grieving. God hadn't yet given us His answer, so it was always mixed with the hope that God would heal his earthly body. But even that was weighed down by seeing the intense suffering that Daniel was going through.

Now, with God having given us His answer, there is the joy of knowing Daniel is whole and happy beyond anything he experienced here on Earth. But also, there is the relief of knowing Daniel suffers no longer; the relief that his care and advocacy are no longer my responsibilities because God has called His faithful servant home, safe with Him; the relief that now I know that this is how God has chosen to most glorify Himself! That is what I prayed for! I am no longer in a heart-wrenching suspense. I can boldly continue on without my beloved because I know that God is and will continue to be glorified, that He will continue to provide for my kids and I, and especially because I know I will see Daniel again when the Lord calls me home.

Until then, it is my heart's desire to continue to serve the God Whom my wonderful husband served so faithfully. It was such a privilege to be Daniel's wife -- to be chosen by such a godly man. No, six years certainly doesn't seem nearly long enough, and yes, we asked for earthly healing, but God has never given me a reason to think He doesn't know what He is doing or isn't powerful enough to bring about His purposes, so I will choose to trust Him. He will never let me down. To Him be the glory, forever and ever.

I have said my last goodbye to my beloved husband. All that is left is one last hello.

Final earthly days and Feb. 18, 2015

What a life-changing week the past seven days have been. God has and continues to teach me so much. Now that I’m mercifully feeling a little more rested, I’d like to share some more details of what happened, and also some reflections as I solidify them in my own mind. I’ll do a series of posts to cover all of what I’d like to share. Thank you for continuing to read this blog. May God be glorified even more.

Sunday, Feb. 15, was Daniel’s last good day of responsiveness. His hemoglobin dipped into the sixties according to Monday’s blood test (normal is 135) and so I was working on getting him another transfusion for his energy and alertness. But the doctor was never there when I was.

Anyways, the kids and I visited him on Sunday and had a relatively good visit. While he was of course very sleepy, he still laid his hand on Josiah’s shoulder and hugged him for a good long while, with Josiah soaking it in. After Kezia finished her snacks sitting with Daddy, she asked me if she could hug Daddy. She got on all fours on his bed and laid her head on his stomach as she has done a few times before. So special. That was the last time they got to see him before Heaven.

Monday and Tuesday were days of a lot of sleeping for Daniel. He had a lot of trouble trying to get alert enough to answer any questions. Sometimes, no answer came at all. He was just too tired. The med he needed finally came in and good friends of ours picked it up for me Tuesday evening. It’s amazing how the Lord provided the med even though it would turn out that Daniel wouldn’t need it. I spent my last evening with him once again by his bedside, praying, listening to a sermon, and holding his hand.

In his sleep, Daniel’s hands would start fiddling with his trache mask or his dressings, and then I would gently remind him, “Daniel, you shouldn’t take off your dressing.” His hands would become still and then he would slowly lower them as he came to himself, his eyes still closed. This had been a pretty common occurrence those last several days.

And so, the life-changing phone call. At 3:29am Wednesday, I got the call from one of his nurses, Sarah. She said she was so sorry but that Daniel had passed. Having just woken up in a start, while I had heard her it was so surreal I asked her to repeat herself. She did. My heart and mind were overwhelmed with the answer God had now given me. I asked her what happened and she told me. She asked if I needed a cab ride, etc. and I said I didn’t, that I had friends on-call. She asked if I needed anything else, and I said, “I just need to pray.”

Getting off the phone, I poured out my heart to God, both overwhelmed with the deep sorrow of losing him, but also with the unspeakable joy knowing that Daniel was face to face with his Lord and Saviour. Finally! I grieved that God’s answer wasn’t a wonderful miracle of healing in this world, but I praised Him for the assurance that Daniel was fully healed and whole and utterly happy in the presence of Jesus. The comfort of that time in prayer was profound.

Still, I was in shock at the finality of that simple phone call. After I prayed, I called my friend who had volunteered to be on-call, “Hi, Kim. I got the call.” While I waited for her and her husband to arrive, I continued to pour out my heart to God, still in that shocked place between broken-heartedness and joy. Grief and hope. Profound pain and intimate worship. When they arrived, we prayed in my kitchen. I ended with, “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Kim’s husband stayed at my house while Kim drove me. We got to the hospital sometime after four. I spoke with Daniel’s two nurses shortly, and then I went in to see his body. I was struck with the obviousness that he wasn’t there anymore. It was just his shell. I placed my hand on his forehead (still a little warm) and prayed aloud, worshipping God once again.

After a while, I talked with the nurses more about what happened: around 3am, in his sleep, Daniel’s hands took off his dressings. Only this time, they also started taking off the tumour itself. This caused an unstoppable bleed. On their rounds, the nurses found the bleed in progress and estimate it had been going for about eight minutes by that time. He was sleeping through all of this. They held his hands until he passed away. They said he was completely relaxed and peaceful. What a mercy. And I’m so glad they were there with him.

As an aside, I think it is so obvious that God took Daniel home in His perfect timing. Daniel slept through it all, and yet the Lord allowed and even directed his hands to cause the bleed that would cause him to step into eternity. The cancer didn’t kill him. He didn’t suffer through the trauma of suffocating. I believe it’s as if God said it’s time to take off this earthly shell and enter into My rest.

As the early morning went on, key friends and family were informed, with several coming to the hospital. The news quickly spread. There were quiet conversations by Daniel’s bedside, prayers for peace and comfort for us who are left, and many hot blankets offered to me by the nurses. The rest of the morning was mostly spent in the ward “quiet room,” where I talked with those who came to help and support me. We discussed next steps (while I tried to choke down some breakfast), and started arranging details for the services as the morning went on. Thank you to all the friends and pastors who came to help.

After spending some final time alone in Daniel’s room by his still body, praying and praising God, I once again appreciated how obvious it was that his soul was with the Lord. Still, there was nothing easy about it. Praise God for the comfort of the Holy Spirit.

Later that morning, friends of mine and I reconvened at Timberline to plan Daniel’s services. Not having really thought about it before, I decided that I wanted the graveside and the memorial to be on separate days. Not only for the kids’ sake because it would be a very long day, but more so for the very different purposes of the services. The first more focused on saying goodbye to his earthly body, and the second a celebration of a life well-lived for Christ. I didn’t want one or the other to distract from the importance of being fully present in both. I didn’t want to have to force myself to switch gears and just go through the motions.

Of course, with the timeframe that we had (Friday and Saturday services), which was because several key people were going away, we had a lot of work to do in a short amount of time. Thank you to so many of you who helped make the wonderful services happen, and arrange all the details. While I still needed to do a fair amount, it would have been impossible without the wonderful service of so many.

After lunch, I took a walk around the ranch to clear my head and continued to pray and reflect on God’s truth. I spent a few hours up at the campfire ring, riding emotional waves of pain, joy, sadness, hope, grief, and comfort. Thank you to so many of you for your messages and comments on Facebook. I read many of them while up there and thanked God for how He had worked in my beloved husband’s life.

 

Once home, (there had been babysitting all this time between several people), I sat down with Josiah to tell him what had happened. I started by saying, “Remember in our Jesus storybooks how Jesus is a real Person, even though we can’t see Him? Well, Daddy has gone to be with Jesus now, and even though we can’t see him or visit him anymore, he is living with Jesus. And guess what! He is so happy! And we’ll get to see him again when God calls us home, but we don’t know when that will be.”

We had several conversations over the next few days (and still are) about what that means. I made sure he knew he could share his emotions with me as well as his questions. Since then, I’ve just been very open and accepting of Josiah’s childish logic and am helping him to make sense of it as much as a four year old can grasp. He’s doing okay. Kezia, being just barely two, doesn’t have much of an idea of what this means, but I still tell her very simply that Daddy is with Jesus, that he loved her so much, and that he is so happy!

Later that evening, a few friends came over to drop something off and we talked, and another friend came over to help me write the eulogy for the memorial bulletin. Heading to bed, I once again immersed my mind in God’s Word listening to rich sermons. It was a long, life-changing day. Praise God for giving me strength.

Called Home

God called Daniel home early yesterday morning. I am so very saddened at our loss,  yet I am rejoicing that he is worshipping his Lord face to face,  free from all sadness or suffering forever. I'm so joyful that I am assured that I will see him again with no more goodbyes. 

While I will give more details and reflections later on,  right now I need to pass along the details for the services. 

The graveside service for family and close friends will be held tomorrow,  Friday Feb 20 at 11am, at Maple Ridge Cemetery. 

The memorial service will be on Saturday Feb 21 at 1pm at Maple Ridge Baptist Church. All are welcome. In lieu of flowers please make a donation to Timberline Ranch.  

God has given us His answer.  To Him be all the glory.

A slough of challenges for me

While Daniel's condition has thankfully been relatively stable this week,  I've had a hard week.

Between not having reliable hot water at home for five days (the tank pilot light kept going out and I couldn't get it relit),  and all the challenges that brings,  to having to email back and forth with the blended food supplier because the shipment was late and we were running very low,  to still fighting a bad throat cold since last week (one night it was very debilitating), to spending the last week checking with the supplier for Daniel's main pain med to make sure they had what I needed,  only to find out not only did they not have everything they said they would have,  but they were robbed and very,  very little was left.

So,  Daniel is on half rations so it lasts until Tuesday and hopefully they will get their next shipment in and we can get it to him. It's the only place that has what we need. I'm praying that the pain coverage will be somewhat adequate at half the amount. Needing to start him on harsh pharmaceutical drugs regularly again will ruin the equilibrium we've fought to maintain with his bowels and his ability to sleep.

No wonder this awful sore throat is hanging on so long.

Please pray for these med details, and of course for the big picture requests we are asking for. Daniel and I thank you. And thank you to all who have helped with so many of these challenges. 

Here's a picture of Daniel resting as I write this:

Conversations, words, and notes

Daniel has come through a few more minor bleeds and some pretty scary respiratory problems in the past four days. No bleeds yesterday or today though.

The breathing problems involve his trache getting looser because of the tumour,  plus the mucus is drying inside the tube liner, the inner canula, because the mask over his trache often gets misaligned and doesn't moisten his air to keep him able to cough up stuff easily. So, they tightened some things and turned up the moisture,  and I asked for him to have more regular checks of his canula. It's a work in progress. 

The swelling in his face and legs has decreased drastically in the past several days. Daniel is able to see out both eyes again.  So nice. Though I was concerned that it was a sign his body didn't have enough volume because of all of the bleeds he's been having.

Daniel's doctor this week is our favourite,  Dr. Z,  and I was finally able to have a good sit down conversation with him Wednesday morning about my concerns. I'm so thankful he took the time to really listen and interact with my suggestions. 

I explained how the conclusions from last week's care team meeting weren't turning out to be what I said we wanted. I once again delineated between ordinary measures and extraordinary measures as Daniel and I discussed a few months ago.

Last week's doctor said she knew that God's answer was that Daniel was going to die soon, and that because when she asked Daniel if he wanted to go to "be with the God,"  and Daniel had indicated yes,  that meant he didn't want treatment anymore; I tried to explain that as Christians we always prefer to be with God in Heaven,  but that doesn't mean we give up or have a death wish. I told the team that the answer was misleading because it wasn't a precise question.

I told Dr. Z that if the previous Dr. thinks it's cruel to prolong Daniel's suffering and she can't understand that, one, God is giving Daniel the grace and strength to endure,  and two,  we are to do nothing to hasten his death including depriving him of simple meds,  treatments,  etc. that can prevent crises,  then she is not on the same page with us and should no longer be put on Daniel's case. I informed the ward manager of this today too. They'll talk about it.

So,  I explained to Dr. Z my concerns about Daniel's confusion and inability to communicate well at all, how it's causing distress for him,  and using up a lot of energy. (For example,  last night he spent 20 minutes writing and rewriting on his phone and clipboard trying to order the letters right and finally got half a phrase somewhat legible,  which I was able to ask him about. He wanted to make sure there were no needles in his mattress.) Plus,  the agitation has caused the nurses to have to medicate him with anti-anxiety meds a time or two and the extra pain meds he's needed were ruining his bowel equilibrium which required more meds. A downward spiral.

A bit of background: a few weeks ago I noticed more minor confusion in Daniel and asked that week's doctor to give him pamidronate because I know that confusion is a symptom of hypercalcemia. It helped a lot and Daniel even texted me again a few times -- it had been six days since the last text. Dr. Z had then followed up and was impressed with the response,  even though the calcium seemed to rise a touch. He said,  "I guess we need to treat the symptoms and not the numbers."

I reminded him of that yesterday and said I would like to try this med again to see if it helps. We discussed alternatives and I said because we know this one doesn't seem to have adverse side effects for Daniel to stick with it until it doesn't work anymore. He agreed. Dr. Z said he'd need my feedback to figure out if the med is effective and then if so he's okay with having a weekly order of it.

In light of last week's doctor refusing more transfusions, I also suggested a more conservative option for transfusions as it seemed Daniel would need another because of all the bleeds he's had. I said that the bleeds seem to happen soon after a transfusion so perhaps we shouldn't be aiming for 100 hemoglobin but more like 80, so the sudden added volume doesn't create the outward pressure on the tumour and cause bleeds when he coughs hard,  but still give Daniel enough for strength and energy,  relatively speaking. That way we can try to avoid the life threatening aspect of bleeds while still giving Daniel the benefit of the transfusions when he needs them. He thought about it and agreed. He said there's a certain aspect of this all that is akin to flying by the seat of our pants. That's one way to put it.

So,  he ordered the blood work for the hemoglobin baseline and the pamidronate,  which both required of course Daniel get an IV again. It took a few tries again late last night,  but the numbing patches helped with the discomfort.  And it turns out that Daniel doesn't need a transfusion as he's at 78, which really surprised both the doctor and I.

It's so good to have a doctor who at least somewhat gets where we're coming from (he seems to have at least a Christian background if not more),  and that I'm just trying to do the most ethical and moral thing to care for my husband and relieve symptoms and suffering as much as possible while we wait for God's answer, plus respecting God's standard for the sanctity of life,  trusting He will continue to sustain Daniel for what He allows.

This morning the ward manager and Dr. Z said they needed to discuss something Daniel wrote during the night. He was just about finished the med IV and spent a lot of time and energy with a lot of agitation writing the word "disconnect." So, the nurse unhooked his IV. The manager and doctor were very concerned whether he was refusing the treatment.

When Daniel awoke from his nap a few minutes later during my conversation with them,  I asked. It took a few minutes to get him awake enough to think about what I was saying and then to try and give me clear answers with his hands. Basically,  he wanted it disconnected because it was uncomfortable,  not because he didn't want the med. I informed the doctor and manager. I have since updated his printed sheet of words he can point to so this can be much more easily communicated in the future.

So,  yes,  a lot of heavy conversations trying to undo false assumptions from last week's meeting and getting the team back on the same page as what Daniel and I discussed a few months ago.

But a wonderful result God has brought about is during my visit tonight,  Daniel spent about a minute writing something and, while still having an extra letter here and a word there,  he said he needs me and loves me. Wow,  what a blessing! Plus, I'm looking forward to showing that to the doctor tomorrow.

So,  a lot happening with a lot of unknowns. All the while I've been fighting a cold,  the kids have eye infections as symptoms of their colds (it's not pinkeye as I thought),  and Kezia has had a substantial fever all day which has taken a lot more care. In fact,  she's coughing now (it's approaching midnight), so I'd better go.

Please keep praying. Thank you. God is up to something. May He be glorified.

The latest

Daniel has had three bleeds in as many days, the most recent during my visit tonight. I mentioned the other two on Facebook, for those of you connected there. It's been such a hard few days, dealing with so much emotion and spending so much energy crying out to God for strength.

(My updates on Facebook:

Friday,  1:47pm
Daniel is resting after another very major bleed early this morning. I found out about it when I came in this morning. He lost more than a litre they think. He is still very tired but responsive, just weak. The doctor ordered a few meds to help prevent more bleeding. It's hard to say medically how long he has. God knows, and we are finding our comfort in Him. If He wants to heal Daniel still, nothing will stop him. We are surrendering to His will moment by moment. It's a very hard place to be, but the only one that brings peace. Thank you for continuing to pray.

Saturday,  6:32pm
Daniel had another significant bleed this morning. When I got there he was extra sleepy from the meds they gave him again. The doctor won't be ordering any more transfusions. God knows how much time he has left. Still entreating God for a miracle if that would glorify Him the most.)

When Daniel is awake, he sometimes wants to try and write something, but that has become impossible. Either what he writes is unintelligible, or he can't even stay focused for more than a few seconds and just lays there holding his phone or the pen. I wish I knew what he wanted to say. Please pray that we could communicate effectively.

We exist in the tension between acknowledging God may take Daniel home soon and the possibility of healing him. Above all, more than life itself, we want God to be glorified. I continue to give God my desires,  hopes,  and dreams. Every time I have that fear of getting that phone call from the hospital,  I choose to give that to God too.

Prayer requests:

Continued strength and grace experienced in even more profound ways.

Comfort in our fears and the perseverance to keep giving them to God.

That God would keep displaying Himself in amazing and powerful ways, for His glory and honour.

Practically,  for the kids who are both sick. Josiah has had the sniffles and a short fever all week,  and Kezia who got pinkeye suddenly this morning. Her eye is swollen half shut. Pray for patience for me as she screams while I give her the eyedrops.

Thank you for praying. And for so many of you for your practical help too.

To God be the glory. His will be done.

Two very different perspectives on suffering

As I'm sitting here beside Daniel's bed, I have been reflecting on the especially tough past three days. I've been following up on treatment ideas that God has brought to my attention, doing my due diligence in research as always and asking the medical team their thoughts.

That asking brought up some very hard conversations that have both drained me emotionally and have given me yet more opportunities to share the truth of God and the hope we have in Him.

The doctor basically told me that because Daniel's suffering is so severe and his quality of life so poor, his life isn't worth living anymore and it's time to let him go. And she said she refused to try any further treatments on him that would just prolong his suffering. She said she thinks God has already given us His answer.

All of this was over the course of a few conversations, one a phone call and the other a formal meeting with the team. In the meeting, I was able to relieve my concern that anyone would try to alleviate his suffering by depriving him of that which is necessary for life (which unfortunately is not unheard of, even in Fraser Health), so I am thankful Daniel will still get all the care he needs.

I merely got my straight answer which I prayed for regarding the idea I had been researching, though not without having to insist on a robust discussion hearing all points of view rather than just the one doctor's. The answer is no, and I will continue to trust God with how He is leading.

I think the most vital part of that discussion was the differing views on suffering. To a non-Christian, suffering like Daniel's is always bad, always purposeless, and always hopeless. God gave me the opportunity to share His view on suffering, and I will let Him do what He wants with that conversation. I said that when God allows us to go through suffering, even suffering as horrible as Daniel's, He not only has purposes for it, but He gives us the strength and comfort to endure it. 

I take these opportunities to share God's truth and love very seriously and pray intensely before and after so that I can be intentional with my words, not only representing Daniel's wishes when he can't speak for himself, but most importantly representing winsomely the God Whom we serve. This is the essence of our ministry here in the hospital.

Are there loads and loads of emotions to deal with? Oh, my, yes. It is utterly exhausting. But as I do the hard work of continuing to surrender to God all of what I'm dealing with, and I immerse my mind in His Word, He gives me the strength I need. Like to write this blog. A few hours ago, I had absolutely no abilities to write anything because of the strain of the past few days, etc. To God be the glory for sustaining me.

As for how Daniel is doing, he continues to decline. While he is still responsive, his fatigue makes him sleep most of the time. There is more swelling in his face and feet, and he needed another transfusion on Monday. He had another random bleed today, though it thankfully clotted itself over time.

The doctors have reiterated that in their experience he doesn't have much time left. I have been told that if anyone wants to say their goodbyes, now is the time.

We aren't living in denial that the medical perspective on things may turn out to be correct. If God should call Daniel home to Heaven, then that is best, certainly for Daniel.

... I'm home now. My visit with Daniel was good, all things considered. I'm so thankful he was able to respond to me, mostly by his eyes but also some yes or no signing. At the end he needed to write something, but that was a long, frustrating process due to his preexisting dyslexia and fatigue. It took several minutes before the nurse and I finally understood the single phrase he wanted to communicate.

So, as I was saying, we are praying for that which will glorify God the most, surrendering our desires to continue to serve God together. The Bible tells us to be persistent in asking for our God-honoring desires. I continue to spend hours a day pouring my heart out to God just so I can function. He knows our desires and our suffering. He is gracious and compassionate. He knows what He's doing. And each time my heart constricts at the thought of my beloved husband dying, I turn that over to God once more, reminding myself of Who He is. Layer by layer, I surrender.

His will be done, and may He get all the glory.