A Season on the Brink

Nancy left me three months ago today. A season has passed without her. Here are a few contradictions, and conclusions as I review the season just past.

I am even gladder that we helped her to end her journey well, but sadder she is not walking beside me still.

Perhaps I most miss being with her without having to be “on” for her. Can I ever find other places “not to be on?”

I miss having a companion in silence. Where and how do you replace that companion and friend?

I am still learning things about her. Why does that surprise me? Perspective brings insight, I suppose.

I often hate being alone, I frequently come apart in groups.

I want to be with friends who can help me remember and mourn, I sometimes want to be with people who never knew me as one half of "Dan and Nancy."

People say that they want to help, I don’t know how to tell them to help

I have noticed that being invited over meals feels good, having someone come over---bringing a meal along---feels even better.

The sound of a loving voice is far more encouraging than the sight of an email or Facebook message.

I am becoming more productive, but I have more days when I just want to stay in bed.

I don’t want to get stuck in the middle of grief; the end of the road through this valley is not yet in sight.

I know God didn’t take Nancy home “so that” I would grow closer to Him, but I must grow closer to Him to heal the wound of her passing.

I want time to pass so that it will bring healing, I want time to end and cease the need for healing.

A Fulton Thanksgiving

It was good to come to Fulton. The long drive on Thursday morning gave me time and space to weep, to pray, to give thanks. Jonah found a spot on my lap shortly after I got there. That felt good. Chris's family welcomed me to their dinner table. The fire was warm, the food good.

We have also done some early Christmas shopping and talked about what Christmas Day can look like this year. Leah and I have also had some special time together to grieve. We process things in much the same way so, this was also good stuff.It all felt so different. Far removed from last year's "Fried Turkey Thanksgiving." And that felt safe.

This morning I awoke thanking him that every Thanksgiving from 1974 through 2007 included Nancy. This one did, too; she just ate at a different table. Still, I missed her at mine.

Fried Turkey Thanksgiving

November 22, 2007 dawned sunny and unusually warm. Shirtsleeve weather. After our traditional Thanksgiving sharing time at New Life Church we headed home to prepare the feast. I had lobbied for years before we were finally ready to take a dangerous step---we were going to fry the turkey. (Earlier I had purchased the necessary fryer and peanut oil.) It was a perfect day to fire that cooker up in the back yard. Chris and I stood watch over the proceedings throughout, keeping the hot cooking oil and the little kids away from one another. At the appropriate time, Nancy came out to pronounce the bird ready for carving. Then we sat down to the best turkey dinner ever surrounded by most of our family. It was also the last holiday we were to enjoy before cancer completely engulfed us.

When I study these pictures, I see a woman who had come into our own. Gone was the shy scared little girl who faced terrible attention on many holidays. She had been rescued. She had been transformed. The fear had receded, replaced by the freedom to dye her hair brilliant red, and to take a chance on a new way of preparing the Thanksgiving turkey. I see a woman whose journey was almost complete, save one last round of suffering and liberation.

I will always treasure the memory of our “fried turkey Thanksgiving.” I hang on to Thanksgiving 2007, even as the kids and I face Thanksgiving 2008 without the woman who always made a holiday sunny and warm.

Thanks Team!

After Tuesday prayer the WHM staff gathered for a Thanksgiving lunch. It was a time to affirm our common bond, and thank HIM for his blessings to us as a mission. It is wonderful to share the advancement of the Grand Cause with good friends.

As I walk through this season of celebration and sadness, I am thankful to be among folks who know me, and help me to keep moving ahead. They remain at my side as I swing through the highs and lows of this strange path.

Redefining the Holidays

And now we are entering a treacherous part of the journey. Thursday will bring the first major holiday since Nancy went home. During the next few weeks we will be working at redefining the meaning of the word "holiday," even as the word "family" is reconfigured. We are trying to give new meanings to both those words, without the visible presence of the woman whose hospitality and warmth gave so much content to both terms.

Pray for us to keep moving toward one another, support one another and love one another, even as life itself is redefined.

Gala Opening

New Life's Cloakroom Gallery opened last night

with an exhibition of Nancy's watercolors.

As I always, I had a few observations to share before the unveiling. I used Hunter's premise that creation flows out of the impulse to bring order to chaos. Nancy's gift for bringing some order to my chaotic self made her the most creative person I will ever know. But more than that, her five most prolific years came as she sorted through her painful childhood. She found a medium for that creative work after our friend Donna invited her to join her at a watercolor class in 1994. Her paintings often reflected the peace she experienced in the presence of the Lord who took her home three months ago.




We are grateful to Ed. He birthed the vision of providing a display area for Christian artists. He skillfully executed that vision. Lastly, a number of friends braved the cold windy Friday night weather to help us celebrate this visual reminder of Nancy's journey.

The exhibition will remain up until after the first of the year. Please feel free to stop by when you are in Glenside!

Continuing to Announce

A couple of weeks ago my friend Sandy reminded me that I am still in the announcement phase. That is, I am still connecting with folks in the wake of Nancy's death, having first conversations with them, even letting folks know. Also, I face ongoing reminders that ING, and the IRS still deal with me as Dan and Nancy. Their computers have yet to absorb the news that she is Home.

While calling some of WHM's financial partners Tuesday night, I had two bittersweet announcement conversations. First, with a former Ireland team mate, we shared joys and sorrows. I was able to tell her that the Dublin neighborhood we ministered to 1983 now has a church in the community center. Together we marveled at how God really had heard our prayers after all.

Next I talked to a couple with whom we have partnered for over 30 years. There were so many wonderful stories to swap. So many reminders of HIS love. They reminded me of a trip Nancy had taken to encourage them when they were serving in Europe. It was so good to recall the good things we had seen The Father do in and through us.

Those calls warmed my heart. But I found myself losing it on the way home. Once more I had announced the change to dear friends. Once more the wound was strangely reopened, even as His faithfulness to us was relived, once more the longing for HOME was re-enforced, once more gospel hope flowed into the sadness we all felt.

What a strange and turbulent ride I encounter through this valley of grief. I am glad I don't walk this valley alone.

A Sudden Sinking Feeling

I often grow impatient with the slow pace of the walk through this valley. I would love to clear this land of grief and sadness. Quickly and Permanently. Instead I find myself sometimes stuck, as if waddling in quick sand. With no warning.

Take tonight. Two good friends were bringing us dinner tonight and staying to eat with us. So, I was looking forward to having the house resonate with laughter and lively conversation again. Before they came I decided to look through the mail. Foolishly I decided to check the letter from Kay's Jewelers, wanting to make sure it was not a new credit card or something. Instead the letter contained coupons for the upcoming season's sales. And I was stuck again. Reliving the memories of the Journey Deepens necklace that I gave her at Christmas. I was angry at myself for inviting this emotion right before my friends arrived. I delivered a stern rebuke to ME for being so foolish. And pulled my boots out of the quicksand, to eat Mexican food and welcome Tanna the dog into Teddie's liar. Another day wading through hidden swamps of the valley of grief. Part of the journey. Part of paying the cost of love forward.

I was struck by Kathryn's comment about my health. "Our bodies often grieve the loss of someone we love." Very perceptive. The following link documents her intuition: http://www.medicinenet.com/guide.asp?s=ef&k=medicinenet.com&a=52318

Pay It Forward

I am still trying to find road signs to get through this long, dark valley. This week I signed up for daily emails from Griefshare.

Day One reminded me that: Grief is the cost of loving someone. Love always comes with a cost. The Father's love to us comes with the cost of HIS son. His grief darkened the heavens before it rolled back the stone.

So, it cost the Father a great deal to empower Nancy to love me. The price of that love is now"paid forward" through my gratitude to HIM for our years together and my willingness to move toward others in sorrow. Right now, I live a life absent of smiles, hugs and prayers with my best friend. But I pay that cost willingly these days. The love HE gave me through Nancy has left me a wealthy man.

Join us in Glenside on Nov 21

New Life Glenside is opening a small art gallery in our building this fall. We were honored to learn that Nancy will be the first artist to be displayed in the new Cloarkroom Gallery. Please join us at New Life; Jenkintown and Easton Road; Glenside at 7pm Friday Nov 21 for a another example of how the Nancy's life continues to spread out in ever expanding circles.

The Circle Widens

How little I understand the ways of the King. Last night several friends and I attended a function at St. Charles Seminary in Philadelphia. We listened as Father Dennis Billy dedicated his newest book to Al Groves. In front of an audience made up mainly of Catholic clergy Farther Billy explained how Al had pointed him to Christ years ago at Dartmouth.

Two years after Al died Dennis was telling them that Al expemplified true spiritual friendship. Al's love for people, his gentle demeanor and his rigorous intellectual honesty continue to reach people in unique ways.

Each day is salted with the tears I shed as I miss my best friend. But Nancy's paintings are finding a wider audience these days. And the fresh wound I feel allows me to move toward young parents grieving the loss of their unborn child, or a student mourning the combat death of his big brother. The pain I carry pushes me to others in pain.

Tonight I picture Al and Nancy as two stones thrown into a clear lake. Even now their ripples still disturb the surface, spreading his love in ever widening circles.

Why does this surprise me? In the garden of the King, a seed must fall to the ground and die to produce a crop. The seeds germinated through Al and Nancy will continue to yield harvests for many seasons to come.

My Housemate

KJ has been my closest companion over the last three months. As housemates we have tried to help one another through shopping, cooking, cleaning and pet care responsibilities. But we share something deeper and more important. Together we experience grief, sharing, sorrow, and loneliness. It must be hard to share a silent empty house with a sad dad. But she continues to press on as she follows a unique path through this wide valley. Lift her up to Her Heavenly Dad who can remove the weight of sorrow from his kids' shoulders.

Three of KJ's bags made for sale at Elcy's coffee shop were snapped up by discriminating customers yesterday. Get one while they last!

piling up, looking up

I started this week tired from the weekend. But as I told KJ it is good to feel tired from work rather than wrung out from grieving. Nevertheless, "fatigue makes cowards of us all" according to Vince Lombardi. No big surprise that I feel a dearth of courageous faith.

It's dawning on me that even in the new normal of this valley, I simply have more to do than I did in October 2007. Things have a way of piling up around the house, the pantry eventually empties out, etc. Meanwhile, the rental property that we own two doors up the street has been empty since the day Nancy died and we still need tenants. The major projects that were put on hold when she got sick shout loud reminders of our entrance into the valley of death and grieving. And the uncertain nature of my health forces me to lean tentatively into the future.

I would ask for prayer on how to navigate the complaints of the last paragraph with faith and joy. Today's compass reading came from Psalm 123:2

"As the eyes of the slaves look toward the master, as the eyes of a maid look to the the hands of her mistress so our eyes look to the LORD our God, till he shows us his mercy"

Ask HIM to adjust my eye levels that I might look past the piles of unmet tasks, to the One who promises mercies for the valley.

Weekend Wanderings

I drove back from yesterday after meeting a couple of guys in Starbuck's. I spent part of the four hour drive from Harrisonburg listening to the music of Les Mes. The stirring music and the story of redemption, healing and reconciliation has always moved me, but this was the first time I had dared to revisit it since Nancy came home.

The inspiration that I always felt to love my wounded partner was replaced by the tearful realization that we have moved further into the story. There is sweetness in knowing Nancy has escaped the loneliness and exploitation of this place. There is bitterness in knowing that our time together seemed brief and incomplete. I long for to be in that final act, "where chains will never bind me." But I realize that the timing of that last song is up to HIM.

This morning I team taught a missions course with my boss Carolyn. I gave the the perspective from the Great Plains. She expressed insights from North of the Border. Thus, we provided a rich and diverse perspective on the history and vision of WHM. Seriously, I think we worked well together.

Then I jumped in the car and headed to Bridge Church to hear our Josh preach on "Living in the Light of Heaven." It must have stretched him to visit this topic as he tries to make sense of the departure of his mom. But his transparency was winsome, and his insights were deep.

The evening included pizza with friends from church and an exhibition of a good friend's photography. KJ had helped Linda hang her vivid presentation of "The Color of Poverty" around the world.

Memories of the past weave with the activities of the present to suggest the shape of the future. And so goes another weekend's walk through this valley.

We "tag teamed" the talk

As always happens before a major event. There were challenges to overcome. I awoke to a return of the troubling symptoms. Fortunately, Nancy and I had walked through many such distractions on our way to vineyards. So, we walked to the edge of this pool and dove in.

I am exhausted. Spent. Vulnerable. But it is good to have emptied myself for HIM this day.

Tonight Nancy and I spoke in front of 300 college students. I meant that. Nancy and I spoke because 34 years ago she courageously told me that "God is the Center of my life" on our first date. As Josh said, "she spent 34 years discipling Dad." Nancy and I spoke because this lady who never craved the limelight prayed me through every one of my talks. Nancy and I spoke because our story of HIS faithfulness through the end was part of my exhortation to the students to plunge headlong into the Rivers of God's blessing.

So, what was the impact? I could share a couple of anecdotes, but the fruit of any talk is not really harvested for decades. All in I know is that I gave it everything I had tonight. How could I do less? After all, I was speaking for two! She shaped the words, I just spoke 'em.

A couple more steps along the valley road

We have had a few glimpses of life in the Land of the New Normal the past few days.

KJ finished a number of bags that are now on display at Elcy's. (Not too early for Christmas shopping.) If you are in the area stop by and shop!!!

My external symptoms seem to be responding to the antibiotics. So, I am hopeful about an upturn in my health.

I am on my way to James Madison University to speak at a Friday evening gathering of Inter Varsity students. This will be my first speaking trip since Nancy has gone home. It will be good to talk about the One who leads us into ever deeper into the waters that give us life as I walk the students through Ezekiel 47.....Ask HIM to show up and rescue them from the stall waters of apathy.

What About Dan?

In the spring of 2006 HE laid a very strange request on my heart. I began to ask God to give me the privilege of caring for my wife when she died. I had in mind that I would be there to care for her when her health failed in old age. HIS timetable was different. Little more than two years later Nancy went Home while I sat beside her. It was the saddest, richest and most fulfilling ministry that I have ever undertaken in HIS Name. I will always regard that chapter as a gift that spared Nancy the trauma of suffering alone.

But now I live with the aftermath of that ministry. The sense of loneliness made the last weeks feel like a trek on the Dark Side of the Moon. A few days ago I admitted that I have been facing a deep crisis of faith. God gave me grace to do many hard things once Nancy was sick and dying. The moments I felt like running, HE gave me the resolve to stay connected and caring. The numerous heartbreaking tasks that go with burying a mate were, by his grace completed. And the kids and I tearfully rejoiced that we had loved her HOME.

But my faith faltered over the question, "Who would take care of me as I age?" "How can I face a future illness without Nancy at my side?" The fear behind those questions reflected stark unbelief. I refused to believe that HE who empowered me to love Nancy through the valley would make provision for the inevitable crisis moments to come. You see how wicked such terror is?? The faith check is simple. Was I trusting God, or Nancy all these years? Do I trust the Father who sustained His Son when the apostles were scattered that terrible night before Jesus trial and execution?

But God makes provision for our frail hearts. This past week HE has put his arms around me in the form of friends who promised to help care for me if I got sick, to a child who said, "We promised Mom we would look after you," through co-workers who continue to forebear with me through dark moments or fellow elders who have breakfast with me and gaze into my soul.
And through His Word which reminds me that "HE chose us in Him before the foundation of the world." In the midst of this dark week, the words and tune of a contemporary Christian song somehow took root in my heart, and I find myself softly singing "God is good, all the time."

Because HE is my Rock and my Friend, I weathered that crisis of faith. Because HE is faithful, He will bring me through the next and the next, until HE brings ME Home.

The View from Ground Zero

Those cleaning up after 9-11 faced a huge task. They couldn't’t just realign the rubble and reconstruct the Twin Towers. Instead, they could only start cleaning up the debris and build something entirely new. It is still a work in progress.

This weekend I finally understood that I face a similar challenge. Nancy’s death removed the wonderful structure of our marriage. I can’t just rearrange a few details of life and go back to business as usual. No, every aspect of my life, from the way I relate to God, other people, spend my evenings, and organize the bedroom has been forever changed. It is a season to build something new.

Somehow this realization has helped. It has allowed me to “frame” this season, to make sense of it, to define the awesome scope, to admit that building a new structure for life might take years.

Our marriage was a tower of grace, a refuge and a joy. That wonderful dwelling was removed by its Architect this past summer. Now I must ask HIM to hand me the blueprints for a new life. This forces me to stretch out on the goodness of God.
I must rest in his promise that:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
His mercies never come to end.
They are new every morning.
Great is his faithfulness.

Those words were first expressed in Lamentations at a time when the city of Jerusalem was leveled. They are finding fulfillment as the New Jerusalem is still under construction.

the chain of life

I have five “kids” and five “grandkids.” Each bring uniquejoy to my soul. But when I am with Micah, I feel very close to his “Amma.”

That’s no surprise. Nancy spent much of her summer rebound reflecting on the perfect name for our latest grandchild. Just this week, I found that she had “favorited” a web page explaining the meaning of his name on the Internet. Last night I held him for ten minutes. It was like holding a little piece of Nancy. During that time, I tried to pray some of things I most loved about her into his life. I prayed that he would have her gentleness, her compassion, her childlike faith, and her passion for others to know the Master she served. I maintain this mystical conviction that she passed some of those qualities onto him when they laid side-by-side for twenty minutes the day he came home from the hospital, the day she went home to heaven.

Who knows about that? But it has been nine weeks ago today that she left this earth, and I am certain that I still do not want to let her go.