I awoke this morning to a beautiful snowfall. Looks like we have gotten about 3 inches during the night. Jerry better enjoy this Superbowl, because it will likely be the last in North Texas.
A year ago today began our nightmare. I keep thinking of "The Wizard of Oz." Although Dorothy's dream was a fairly pleasant one, at the end of the movie she awakes with all her loved ones around. Something in me continues to hope that this is all a dream from which I will soon awaken. After all, a whole season of "Dallas" ended as a dream of Pamela Ewing's.
As I blog about the rawness of grief, I do not mean to suggest at all that this is something unique to the Ross family -- or that ours is worse than anyone elses. I served with an elder in Crockett who about 15 years prior to my meeting him was involved in a car wreck with his entire family (I think he and his wife had 5 children). All but one of the children died in the wreck. In the book A Grace Disguised, the author tells his story of losing his wife, daughter and mother in a car wreck. How does one continue after such a tragedy? If anything, what has happened to us has only served to make me aware of the grief pain of others.
How fast the year has gone. I think that is because grief has a way of making everything melt together. It is hard to distinguish months from each other -- or even weeks and days.
I remember a year ago today Beverly and I met David and Jenny at the hospital emergency room. Jenny was sitting in the bed, and I kissed her. Malaya was there wide-eyed, and so I took her to the hospital cafeteria. She had her school lunch box with her, so I got something to eat and we had lunch together. One of my elders, Mike, showed up about then and sat with us. Little did I know at that time that Malaya would not see her mother again. We had been told by Jenny's PA that she was probably dehydrated and would be home in a few hours. Wow!
Some people have insinuated, and a few have flat-out said they will be glad when we get back to normal. I know they mean well, and I appreciate that they care about us. But what they need to know is that this IS our new normal. Our lives have been forever changed by the events that began a year ago today. In some ways, for the better. I never would have known the depths of a person's grief if I had not experienced it for myself. And my faith has been put to the test, as well. I no longer have to wonder how I would respond if given the choice of recanting Jesus or being executed. And I have learned what trust REALLY means. Oh, that word is so huge to me today. Trust and hope.
I love this line from my wife: "Our family has been called by the Lord to do hard, so we will do hard."
"I know that my redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will see God; I myself will see him with my own eyes -- I, and not another. How my heart yearns within me!" (Job 19: 25-27)