Why Does it Hurt More at Christmas?

I was surprised by the fact that Christmas was harder for Tonya and I, from a grief standpoint, than a "regular" day.  I certainly understand why that is the case for people who lose loved ones, especially children, with whom they have shared previous Christmases.  They have memories that probably make things harder.  But that wasn't the case for us as we were never given that blessing.  So I didn't think we would feel any differently on Christmas than we would any other day.  But we did.  It hurt more.

Maybe it was because there was a stocking hung on our mantle with Anastasha's name on it, but it remained empty.  Or maybe it was because we baked her a birthday cake for Jesus too (all the kids make one), even though she wouldn't get to lick the frosting.  Or maybe because we couldn't tie a little Christmas bow on her head like I've seen on so many cute little baby girl patients of mine in recent weeks.

I'm not really sure why, but I suspect the main reason is because, for us, Christmas is such a "huddling up" time as a family.  We really try to minimize outside distractions and, for a least a few days, spend some very good quality time...as a family.

Yet this year there was a void...her void.  Yes, I know we have 8 other children.  That should be enough, right?  It isn't a numbers thing.  We are of course so blessed with the living children that we have.  I often tell Tonya that she has made me richer than a king because of them.  It is just that one that we love deeply isn't with us, and we desperately wish she was.

Christmas is, first and foremost, a time to remember Christ's incarnation and look forward to His second coming.  And we did both...with joy.  But is also such a sweet time of family fellowship - tender, giving, selfless, and innocent.  And to do it for the first time as an "incomplete" family was just plain hard.

We visited the cemetery where our baby girl is buried.  I kissed her cold, hard headstone and said "Merry Christmas" with tears in my eyes.  The kids wondered how or if Christmas is celebrated in heaven.  I suspect it isn't, but I also know that everyday there is more glorious than we can ever imagine. 

May Jesus return again soon.  Come, Lord Jesus.

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A Letter From Big Brother At Christmas

Charis wrote this sweet little note to Anastasha and put it in her stocking.  It has been neat for Tonya and I to see the children, with their simple faith, grab hold of the reality of heaven.  And the result of that is great peace, and even joy that they know where their sister is right now and, more importantly, Who she is with right now. 



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He Never Dropped the Leash

The Book of Job has been a family favorite of our for years.  It has taken on even greater meaning this year as we've walked through our own great trial.

We were delighted when we discovered that our favorite Bible teacher, John Piper, wrote an illustrated poem on the Book of Job.  We were blessed by it.  You can find some excerpts under the section of this blog called Precious Quotes. 

Below is a portion of the forward of the book.  It describes God's role in our human suffering.  Piper eloquently expresses that regardless of who the afflicter is in any given situation (Satan or God), that God is ultimately responsible and, therefore, in control.  As a result we can trust in His Omnipotence and Goodness.  We pray that whatever difficult situation you are in, you will find comfort in knowing that God is in ultimate control.

"It is a great sadness when suffers seek relief by sparing God his sovereignty over pain.  The sadness is that this undercuts the very hope it aims to create.  When all forty-two chapters of the book of Job are said and done, the inspired author leaves us with an unshakable and undoubted fact: God governs all the things for his good purposes. 

The text says Job's brothers and sisters 'comforted him for all the evil that the Lord had brought upon him' (Job 42:11).  This is the author speaking, not a misguided character in the drama.  Whatever Satan's liberty in unleashing calamity upon us, God never drops the leash that binds his neck.

Jesus' brother James rounds out the picture with his interpretations: 'You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful' (James 5:11).  In other words, the Lord is sovereign, and the Lord is sweet.

Pain and loss are bitter providences.  Who has lived long in this world of woe without weeping, sometimes until the head throbs and there are no more tears to lubricate the convulsing of our amputated love?  But O, the folly of trying to lighten the ship of suffering by throwing God's goverance overboard.  The very thing the tilting ship needs in the storm is the ballast of God's good sovereignty, not the unburdening of deep and precious truth.  What makes the crush of calamity sufferable is not that God shares our shock, but that his bitter providences are laden with the bounty of love.

I have written for sufferers. I pray that you will be helped to endure till healing, or to die well.  One who suffered more than most wrote: 'To live is Christ and to die is gain' (Phil 1:21).  Which of these will be our portion, God himself will decide. 'If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that' (James 4:15).

The great purpose of this life is not to stay alive, but to magnify - whether by life or by death - the One who created us and died for us and lives as Lord of all forever, Jesus Christ.  I pray that his sovereign goodness will sustain you in the unyielding joy of hope through every flame of pain and flood of fear."

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One Month

Today marks the one month anniversary of Anastasha's birth and death.  She is gone.  We're still here.  And we hate that.  There are many days that we wish we weren't here either and that Jesus would return to take all of us who are in Christ with Him and end all pain and suffering once and for all.  But He tarries, so we wait...

In the month since we said good-bye to Anastasha, we have:

• laid her body to rest in the ground
• enjoyed special time with numerous precious family and friends
• received her social security card in the mail
• returned to work (Craig)
• returned to the same Labor and Delivery to be with friends who were having their first daughter
• went to Tonya's postpartum checkup (first time back to the place of "life" 5 times for us)
• resumed homeschooling (Tonya)
• signed Anastasha’s death certificate as the physician of record (Craig)
• rejoiced in the births of FIVE babies born to local friends in the last month
• cried daily
• read to the kids more, played more kickball with them, and hugged them more tightly

So how are we doing one month later?  We're hurting.  We're sad.  We're emotionally spent.  We don't have the energy to put on a happy face and "pretend" to others that all is well.  If our journey with Anastasha was a marathon, and the days and weeks leading up to her death were the "kick" at the end, then we are in the cool down period right now.  And neither of us has the energy to sprint, or even to jog.  We aren't crumbling.  By God's grace we are standing up under the pain.  But all isn't well.  Our daughter is dead.  We can't hold her or kiss her.  We can't watch her grow up.  We know she is with the Lord.  But to be truthful, we want her here with us.

As the colorful life of summer gives way to the dreary death of winter, so it is in our hearts.  The world seems a bit duller.  Things that are usually attractive and appealing have lost their shine.  And I don't mean that in a depressed, anhedonic sort of way.  I mean that in a "seeing-things-for-what-they-really-are" sort of way.  Money, "stuff", sports, achievements - its all gonna burn someday.  The truth is that this world is temporary.  We were made for another home...a heavenly one.  And the things we often run around chasing in this world by and large have very little meaning or purpose for that home that is to come.  What matters is what will last - the lives we impact for God.  And most importantly, how we love Him while we are here.  Because when the day comes that He calls our name, none of that other stuff will matter.  He won't ask us what car we drove, how much money was still in our bank account, or what degrees we earned.  He'll ask us how we responded to His Son.  That's all that will matter, and the day is coming for each of us sooner than we realize.

Yesterday at Thanksgiving, there was an obvious absence in our home and at our “table”.  We felt great thankfulness for Anastasha, but at the same time this feeling was almost overshadowed by grief that she isn’t here with us.  There is a void there, one that I suspect will never be truly filled this side of heaven.

Grief is a process that looks different for everyone.  It looks different for Tonya than it does for me.  God is present in our grief, guiding us through the journey with this unwanted guest in our lives.  But we won't rush it.  We couldn't if we wanted to.  We are determined to let the Lord lovingly take our hands and lead us through this to the other side, in His timing.  And we desperately want to emerge on the other side more like Christ than when we started.

God is still good.  Christ still reigns. 

It is well with our souls.  We’re pressing in to Him.  We’re still trusting.  We’re still hoping in His unfailing love. 

But we hurt.  A lot.

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Created to be Loved

A dear friend of mine from medical school emailed me a portion of his journal from the day of Anastasha's birth.  It rings of truth and blessed me tremendously.  He gave me permission to share it.  I hope it will be a blessing to you and help you see what not only Anastasha's purpose here on earth was, but what yours is as well.

 

"Praise God for all things, even for those things beyond our understanding that work for His glory!  We understand such a small fraction of His greatness, His plan, His universe, yet He knows each of us intimately.  Why are we made so limited, so inadequate for the tasks that seem laid before us?  Or do we have it wrong?

 

        Have we as a people misjudged our task, our purpose?  Are we here (and fully equipped) to simply love God, and worship Him?  Why then, are we saddled wth reason?  Why do we have the capacity to even realize how limited we truly are, how little we understand?

 

        October 26th, 2010, at 1239 CDT, a minister was born, a "prophetess," maybe.  Her name is Anastasha Kalil DeLisi, and she lived for 50 minutes.  She had anencephaly.  Her parents, our good friends from long ago, Craig and Tonya DeLisi, carried her to term and chose that 9 months and 50 minutes of life for her.

 

        I feel ministered to by her already. She, the "least of these," sends a profound message that all God's children are equal in value.  Her parents' witness, to do something "countercultural," "tore the veil" on what we often think reality is to see God's reality.  We should celebrate life ALL THE TIME, but celebrate it as a precious gift in an open palm. 

 

        That, as beautiful as it is, is not the most radical message that this tiny miracle shows us.  She makes our mission crystal clear.  We each have a purpose here on earth, all of us, for whatever time we are here.  As Anastasha shows us, maybe it has nothing to do with our abilities, our well intentioned ministries, or ANYTHING that neatly fits into the construct of western thought, or even superficial Christian doctrine.  It may not even be to "love Him" in the terms as we define love.

 

        It is to RECEIVE GRACE, freely, without pride, without pre-supposition of worth, but to be objects, recipients of the perfect, everlasting love of the Almighty God through Jesus Christ His Son.  ALL can receive, none is inadequate for this task.  Anastasha is an incarnational reminder of the ONLY thing that is important.  To be loved by HIM.  She was unable to let her will get in the way of His love, unable to rest on her gifts as they would be defined by our society.  All of the unimportant things were stripped away in her, and what was left was that which was necessary to be an object of that precious gift of God's love - her soul.

 

        God bless my friends for being her parents.  Only they were up to this monumental task, in His strength.

 

        God, thank you for Anastasha.  She is showing the way to us all.  Many would define her as less, or last, but we know she is so much more. 

 

        Matthew 19:30 "But many who are first will be last, and the last first."  She stands first among us today, complete in the resurrection, an object of God's love."

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Ripples in a Pond

Here is the video clip of the announcement Tonya and I made to the children that she was pregnant (on March 1, 2010).  It is a sweet video that shows how excited they were about a new sibling.

Below the video is the poem that Tonya wrote to tell me that she was pregnant.  She gave me 9 stones with the poem, each one representing the life of one of our children.  We believe that each of their lives were cast in the "pond" of the world by God, with the purpose of making eternal ripples for Him.

It seems that God was preparing our hearts for what was to come before we even knew about Anastasha's diagnosis.