Giving a good gift

As Mother’s Day approached, it was obvious it was on the minds of my kids. There’s no doubt it was a frequent topic of conversation in their classrooms; as well it should be. But there’s no avoiding the very real wounds left by the loss of a parent.

We concluded one of our evenings this week in the usual way by reading the Bible. This time, it was about heaven, giving expression to John’s vision as described in Revelation. And Brady, my always sweet boy, began crying. “As soon as I get to heaven, I’m going to cry to see Mommy.” He is so keen to his own feelings. “Every one has a mommy, pretty much, except for me!”

Halle chimed in. “Everyone in my class has a mommy, too, except for me. Now Brady is making me sad.” She wasn’t blaming him, so much as just recognizing her own sadness. She’s sad that she doesn’t really remember Mommy. She wishes she knew her better, but is glad “Mommy looked like me.”

They both are so hopeful for me to find a new mommy. And that’s where it gets tough for me.

When it comes to parenting, one of my go-to verses is in Matthew 7:11, where Jesus is talking about prayer: “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” As I read this, I hear it as a call for me to do like God and give good gifts to my children, especially when they ask. (Emphasis on “good” there, because I won’t just give them anything they ask for. In the same way, God knows more than us, so won’t give us everything we ask for.)

So, when the thing my children are most asking for is a new mommy, and it’s the very thing I want to give them, and it’s a good thing that I can find no “bad” in, it breaks my heart tremendously that it’s the only thing I can’t give them. I have tried my best for nearly 4 years now to give them just that.

So, I’ve decided that we’re going to spend the next 100 days in consistent prayer for a new mommy. And we’re going to wait and see what God decides to do. I’m circling August 17 on my calendar.

And the thing of it is this: there’s more that I’m just beginning to learn now. From long ago — even before Stephanie was officially pronounced dead — I have been giving up my pain to God over losing her. I would say I gave up most of that pain 4 years ago and have given up more as time has ticked on. But now, I’m truly starting to learn the pain of my children’s loss. And so, I am starting to learn how to give that up to God. It’s critical that I don’t drive my kids to find their hope in getting a new mommy, but that they rather find all their hope in God. And may I do the same.

Rephrased

We were driving back from a day of boating with my family. My dad was driving and I had my eyes closed in the back seat next to Halle. Given the chance to be a passenger for the hour-long drive home was a welcome change of pace, and I didn’t want to miss it for getting some rest.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Halle?” I opened my eyes to look at her.

“Can you please close that?” She pointed up at the built-in shade for the moon roof above her. I reached up and pulled it shut, then went back to closing my eyes and resting. I did it without even thinking. I wasn’t bothered in the slightest way to have to open my eyes to do something for her.

Then I remembered a verse that so often comes to mind as I raise my kids: “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:11)

This verse often plays two ways in my mind. First, I remember that it is right and good for me to give good things to my children. Second, I remember that God gives good things to me and desires to give good things to me.

“The Lord God said, ‘It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.'” (Genesis 2:18)
“He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the Lord.” (Proverbs 18:22)

I immediately and earnestly took on the heart of a child; God’s child. It was not something that took effort. It happened so naturally. But I felt just like Halle must have felt in that moment. I’ve never felt so child-like before in my life. And I echoed her words, slightly altered, and imitating her attitude.

I prayed in my thoughts: “Daddy, can You please give me a wife?”

I’ve prayed for another wife for over 3 years now, so this is nothing new, but the childlike innocence I felt in that moment will not long be forgotten. Even now, weeks later, I can vividly remember how I asked the question.

A tear dropped from my eye and I went back to resting.

Like brother, like sister

Halle has looked up to Brady her entire life. For as frustrated as her do-it-herself nature gets when he tries to help her with… well, anything, she wants to be just like him in so many ways, and she just adores him. So I wasn’t surprised when things played out the way they did. Although, I thought it would take longer.

Brady is nothing if not blunt and matter-of-fact in the way he presents information. After he accepted Jesus into his heart, any mention of heaven or God or being a Christian lead him to discuss who in our family is and isn’t going to heaven. The main person that he brought up is Halle. I had to constantly try to tell him the right way to talk about it and not to kind of rub it in her face.

Well, it turned out to be a good thing, essentially. Just 8 days after Brady became a Christian, Halle was compelled. After reading the Bible before bedtime, she was very upset and started crying. She even sent Brady away and wanted to be alone with me.

“When is God going to be in my heart?”

“Well, Sweetheart, He promises to be in your heart when you believe that you’re a sinner and know you can’t get to heaven without believing that Jesus died to forgive you of your sins.”

I again did my best to explain it in terms she could understand, but without leaving out the important details. She climbed into bed and we prayed together. She prayed on her own first, asking God to come into her heart amidst thanking Him for trees and a good day. I reminded her of Jesus and how He died for her sins and prayed along with her about those things.

Brady was very excited. Now our whole family will be in heaven together!

Well, except for his baby cousin who is less than a year old. I guess he has his work cut out for him.

Children are amazing

Today is Stephanie’s birthday. We have built some traditions in how we celebrate her every year. The kids help decorate a cake for her, we buy a balloon or two to take to the cemetery, and we go out to eat. Brady has been asking over the last few days if we were going to go to “the place where Mommy died.” I can’t believe it has that importance to him already. And last night, before bedtime, the kids both came to me in the hall, hugging me, and saying how they miss Mommy.

I’m told they were both talking about Mommy with Nana during the entire time they were working on the cake. I can just imagine the discussion they were having, remembering all the things she meant to each of them (some real and some made up).

As we were finishing up dinner, Brady asked me if we could tell the waitress that it was his mommy’s birthday. Not wanting him to depend on me to talk to strangers for him, I encouraged him to go ahead and tell her. And his conversation with her will always bring a smile to my face as he so politely told her that it was “our mommy’s birthday.” The waitress was wonderfully involved and asked how we were going to celebrate. (At this point, she has no idea that the birthday girl is no longer alive. I can only imagine what the waitress was thinking as she could clearly see that the celebration was without a recipient.) Brady, however, masterfully kept the grim news to himself until the waitress asked about presents and it was appropriate that he make it clear: “Well, she got sick and died.” Now it made a little more sense to the waitress.

I am just in awe over how Brady handled himself through the whole conversation. He spoke clearly and politely, was engaged in the conversation, and ended it all by wishing her a great day and a great weekend (3 days early, but whatever). At that point, Halle chimed in a wished her “a good day, too.” And the waitress — bless her heart — was very patient and attentive, and told us to let her know that if there was anything she could do.

I thought my night was nearly perfect when Halle had to make it even better. For the first time, she prayed all by herself for bedtime. “Dear God. I hope we have a good sleep. I hope we have a good day tomorrow. I hope Daddy has a good work tomorrow.” And after a pause, as she tried to think of what to say next, “I love you, God! Amen.”

My heart is so full right now. All of this comes on an important date in our lives. For this year, I don’t think I have felt any sadness today. Even if I had, my children would have blown that totally away. But it’s an odd sensation, nonetheless, as I’m so accustomed to it being attached to sadness. I almost don’t know what to do now that it’s not.

But thank God for children and the blessing they are to me. What a great 36th birthday for Stephanie. As a friend so simply and perfectly said it: Happy Birthday, Stephanie!

Stephanie's Birthday

Boredom

“Daddy, do you miss having Mommy?”

“Yes, Brady, I do.”

“Me, too.”

And then the conversation becomes about finding a new mommy. I’m reading a book about dating as a single parent, so I want to put some of that into practice — notably, to make sure they are “okay” with me dating. For that to happen, I need to make sure they understand dating as best as possible.

“In order to find a new mommy, I’ll need to get to know her and become best friends with her. That might mean I’m not with you all the time like I am now, but I promise to do my best to spend as much time with you and still get to know her.

“I also want to make sure you know that she’s not going to be just like Mommy. She’ll look different and act different and like different things. But, she will love me and she will love both of you. And she’ll be just the right wife for me and just the right mommy for both of you. And we’ll all love her.”

Brady chimes in: “I’m bored without a mommy.” I guess we need to work a little on the meaning of “bored,” but I think I understand what he means. He’s tired of this feeling of not having a mommy around. Like me, he’s just weary of that absence in our lives. It’s getting old.

He adds, “I feel like mommy’s been gone for five years.” (It’s been a little over 2 1/2.)

And then Halle speaks up. “Well, I feel like she’s been gone for SIX years,” says my four-year old.

Good talk, kids. Good talk.

Travel by car

Halle has been commenting a lot recently on her lack of an earthly mother. Just as I have been straightforward with them, both Brady and Halle tend to be very matter-of-fact about it.

First, it was after hearing The Cat in the Hat read out loud. At the end, it asks the reader what she would do if “your mother asked you” what you did all day. Halle responded semi-indignantly, “We don’t even have a mother.” I’m constantly thankful for the resilience of children that she could make this statement without a tinge of sadness. (Of course, there’s also a part of me that is sad about her lack of sadness.)

Then, after a show talked about families being made up of a mother and father, etc., Halle again commented on her lack of mother. My mom explained that Mommy is in Heaven and how one day we will see her again if we believe in Jesus Christ and His sacrifice to cleanse our sins. Halle’s response was to ask if it would be a long time. “Yeah, it will be a long time before you go to Heaven,” my mom answered.

“Then I’m going to need to take a nap in the car.”

I know dat

While she trotted off to bed, I was admiring Halle and the lovely hair she has. “You’re so pretty, Halle.”

“I know dat!” (Of course you do.) “I need to be pretty for Mommy.”

“You’re already pretty like Mommy.”

At bedtime, I always ask the kids what the best part and worst part of their day was. Since she doesn’t fully understand the concept, I was trying to prime the pump for Halle tonight. “My favorite part of today was listening to you and Brady play and have fun together. What was your favorite part?”

“You.”

(Seriously? Wow, Halle. I love your affection. Goodnight, sweet girl. Sweet dreams.)

Location Undisclosed

While at the pool, Halle bounced happily over to me.

“Daddy, when is my mommy going to come?”

I caught my breath and stuttered a bit. I drew her close. “Honey, don’t you remember? Mommy died.”

“No, Daddy!” she said indignantly, “My other mommy.”

This made it obvious to me (and I asked in order to clarify) that she was asking about a “new” mommy. I informed her that I don’t know but that I keep hoping and praying to find her soon.

As with so many things, I have to wonder what her perception is of all of this. It’s entirely innocent. The lack of pain her own voice makes it both easier and harder to hear her ask such things.

I didn’t think to tell her at the time, but I’m so thankful to all the women in our lives who love on my kids and show them that tenderness that doesn’t come so naturally to us guys. And I know how much my kids appreciate it, too, even if they don’t have the words to express it.

Brief Conversations

I love the time I have with Halle on her change table. I think I might really miss that now that she’s on the verge of getting out of diapers. We often play and laugh as I tickle and kiss her. We also have some great, random conversations. Recently, it went like this:

Halle: “Mommy in my heart.”

Daddy: “You’re right. Mommy is in your heart.”

Halle: “Mommy not die. She not die when she in my heart. I kiss him. And I hug him in my heart.” (So, admittedly, we’re still working on personal pronouns.)

I love the simplicity of her statement, and I thank God that she feels this way. I especially worry that Halle is too young to have any memory of Stephanie, even though she is the spitting image of her mother. It makes me euphorically happy that at 3 years old, she is expressing such things.

I be happy

Recently, my 2 1/2-year-old daughter was having some rough, crabby days. Those usually consist of her scolding me for trying to tell her something or even answer a question of hers when she would prefer someone else to answer. I make it a point not to stand much for this behavior and constantly inform her that if she’s going to be crabby, she can spend some time alone in her room until she has a better attitude.

After having reminded her once again that she should not talk to me that way and be crabby for seemingly no reason, she started whining again, only to be reminded by my friend of what I had just said. I have a lot to learn from her response, which was priceless:

“Okay. I not be crabby. I be happy.”

The real lesson was in the fact that she didn’t only say it, but she then lived it out. She stopped whining and began playing happily by herself not causing any more commotion. While I understand that emotions are important and have their place, I ought to remember that it is all too easy to sin in the midst of negative emotions. Instead, “I be happy.”

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things.
Philippians 4:8