November journal "Bits and Pieces" 2012
Death
Something I’ve been pondering a lot. Morbid--perhaps. Certainly from the perspective of
a pre-Christian. But from those of us
who will only lose our bodies there is nothing morbid about it. Perhaps we should think about it more than we
do. Would we fear it less if we pondered it more? It is natural to fear the unknown so maybe we
should ponder death and all it’s implications from time to time.
I think of it a lot these days as we wait for little Cedric to leave
us. I have never prayed for anyone to die like I have for Cedric....I'm
not sure how I feel about that. Yet he and his parents suffer so that
it is heartbreaking.
Death....That leads me
to the spiritual path our nation is choosing to embrace. I found myself feeling like our nation is dying. Kinda like the fall of Rome. Or of other countless nations over the centuries. Scares me. But then the Lord got a hold of me
to remind me that I have nothing to fear; not death...nor life for that matter! Because
it is living that often scares me more than the dying part. Living with
the choices politicians are making, living with MS... But nothing can
separate me (or my kids,
grandchildren, great-grandchildren etc) from God’s love.
So when this "grand" country chooses which way it will go--with or
without God--God's love will still be available for those who love Him.
When/if this disease takes away my mind and basic body functions, I
will still have God's love. And that is exactly what I will need.
Whew!
11/14/12
Had my 6 month MRI yesterday. Still have one lesion(only) in my brain which is
good, but now have one in my neck which would probably account for all the neck
pain. And the doc says for the bladder
trouble too. He seemed a bit concerned,
but did not voice it. He’s about as
communicative as a rock. His poor wife.
Poor kids, too. But he is still a good
doc. Usually good doctor and bad
communicator don’t go hand in hand, but somehow it works for him. Most
of the great docs I've had were great communicators, so this guy is an
oxymoron. And no, I did not call him a moron. And yes, there are some
who I have called just that.
Feel like I have this dark,
cold hard blackness wandering around my body just waiting to pounce where-ever
it feels like sinking its metal claws into.
Not a real warm fuzzy feeling.
But it is still subject to God’s will, sooo….so there! You big bully you! God’s in control of MS
because I’ve asked Him to be.
Been struggling with feeling like I’ve been put up on a high
shelf and shoved to the back where its all dusty and dark. I'm not much a part of society. Then as I was worshiping today I realized
that my pride is getting in the way. The
reason I want to do something worthwhile and be somebody is just ugly old pride, which God
detests, by the way. (NOTE TO SELF) And, by the way, I am a friend of God. What more do I need? I am honored to be called His friend. Who am I that You are mindful of me? Who am I, Lord? Thank you for letting me be part of Your
family and Your Kingdom.
Journal excerpt: 9a.m.
Sun 11/18/10/2012 15 min after Cedric went to heaven
The words that echo
through my mind conflict with one another: he is gone and, sweet angels
sing thee to thy rest. Both true. They should be comforting because
he no longer suffers, no longer shudders and spasms with seizures, no longer struggles
to breathe, no longer eats through a tube...but all I can think is that he is
gone. And in my minds eye I see the grief on my sister's and Wes' face
and the confusion on Dothan's as they hold his body.
Somewhere out of the
darkness of grief the Lord brings a glimpse of Cedric doing things in heaven he
never would have done on earth: smiling, sitting before the throne,
talking, singing and dancing in joy to Jesus, cuddling with His Savior,
running to throw his arms around his sister Alethea, telling her all about her
courageous parents and brother on earth--how they have brought great honor and
glory to the Lord, greeting relatives and all of the saints who have gone
before him. Yet, he is not with us any more. Sometimes reality hits
like a freight train at the worst of moments and leaves our hearts splattered
on the tracks. I can just see that Cedric can't stop smiling. He
has a beautiful smile. One that we never got to see. We will
someday. Someday feels like a long way off for a grieving mother and father,
Lord.
Only You can heal a
broken heart such as theirs. Only You can catch their tears and use them
to heal them. For as some wise soul said, "The soul would have no
rainbow without tears." Please, Father, give them a rainbow, a promise
today of great joy and rewards and healing. Carry them through this
valley of the shadow of death. I suppose it is only a shadow of death
because it is not a death of separation from You, but one of separation from
loved ones, a temporary one at that. Climbing out of this familiar valley
will be too...familiar. How do you do it twice as a parent? I know
many have and have survived, but I look at it and it seems too steep and too
difficult, too dark, too slippery The footholds too muddy and too small,
the handholds too sharp. All I can hear is the silence. Let there
be many who walk alongside them, Lord. Some to hold up the light of
encouragement when all seems too dark even if it is in the quietness of prayer
from afar. Some to be physically present with them on the darkest of days
to give Natasha and Wes a boost up the next step. And during those times
when they hold their heads in despair and pain, feeling abandoned by You,
surround them with Your love and Your people. Do not allow them to give
in to despair. Let this be the greatest healing they ever experience.
Jesus, Cedric is their
second Isaac. They are slowly placing him on Your altar and letting him
go. Alethea was their first Isaac. You did not give them a
replacement of a ram in a thicket. It is impossible to understand why.
Yet it is as it is. Please honor them for continuing to follow and
love You. I ask that You will lead Dothan to do the same as his parents
do in their faith and in their grief. I know You shoulder the weight of
their grief regardless of how it feels to them. Oh Father, carry us all.
11/27/12
We went to the viewing immediately when we got to
Wichita. Cedric looked so healthy and
peaceful laying in his little coffin in his striped shirt with two green frogs
on the front and wrapped in a blue blanket and with a stuffed bear sitting next
to him. I keep trying to remember him
that way instead of how ill and exhausted he looked in pictures at the end of
his life. He looked like Tash--a
Yost. Nate wept and I think would have
sobbed had he had some privacy. My dad
and brother cried as well. How can you
not when it is a sweet 7 month old baby who looks pretty normal and so happy?
We said goodbye to Cedric the day after Thanksgiving. The funeral was very moving and so hard. Tali and I just cried and cried and
cried. For some reason it seemed so much
harder than Alethea’s. Tash said that
she had more hope this time around that Cedric would be healed. Wes said he had none this time from the
moment he found out she was pregnant.
The morning after the funeral Dothan woke up and ask Tash to
pray to Jesus to bring Cedric back to life “tomorrow”. Faith.
We all jumped in to tell him that Cedric wanted to stay in heaven but I
wondered later what that said to 5 yr old Dothan. That Cedric doesn’t want to be with his brother?
It is funny how life is made up of snapshots of
memories. Some bring joy and others great sadness. I will never forget the sight of Dothan
leaning over Cedric’s coffin to give him a hug and a kiss. It was hard to hold back a sob. The next unforgettable snapshot was of Dothan
running up to help Uncle Nate and Uncle Brandon carry his brother’s coffin. Then I remember Tash leaning into Wes, burying
her face in his shoulder trying to contain her grief. I think my heart broke into a million shards.
I kept jumping back in time to seven years before to another
funeral for a little girl--Alethea's(Wes and Tash's daughter who also died from Zellweger syndrome). It has seemed like a cruel repetition of the first nightmare. This time we
buried a little boy right next to his sister. There just “happened” to be a
spot next to her grave. And all I could
think was how wrong it all seems. I will
never understand God’s reason or ways with these two precious children. I do know that God chose Tash and Wes and
Dothan very carefully for this. He has certainly been very purposeful. No doubt in my mind.
My heart feels like lead at times. I wish I could take the grief for Tash. Why oh why a second time? I find myself begging and pleading and
bargaining with God that nothing more should bring grief to Tash and Wes and
Dothan. But I find myself fearful
because the unthinkable has already happened to them…twice. Please, Lord, no more. No more.
No more. No more pain. Give them a quiver full of children. Tash once said that they wanted 10 and then
after they had their second Zellweger child Wes said that they would have to
give up their dreams of a big family.
But you are a God of dreams—a dream-giver. Give them the deepest
desires of their hearts. Beyond what
they’ve even known they’ve wanted. Maybe
the physical pain I feel is just the
grief I feel on their behalf. Oh Father,
have mercy on them. Please fill their
family with great peace and joy now.
Heal them deeply. Meet them deep
down. Let this be the start of great healing and of brand new beginnings.
