The Cheeze Blog

Job is my hero. And by Job, I mean the Biblical stalwart who suffered the loss of every one of his kids to nearly every possible disaster, and then he was made to suffer miserable boils on his skin. And yet, after all of that, he didn’t turn his back to God. I love this guy. I wish I could have been friends with him – seriously. I’ve always loved the book of the Bible with his namesake and poured over it endlessly all my life. My favorite quote from the book, I would have to say is in the second half of verse 21 in chapter 1: “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.”

Here’s a guy who has literally lost everything: sons, daughters, land, money, dignity, and his own health. His nearly immediate response is to acknowledge that the Lord has every right to take away, just as much as He decides to give to us, and then he praises God’s name in that fact. I’ve always tried to relate and have such an attitude as much as that is possible, but I always had to scrounge for situations in my own life that could even fit in the same universe as what Job experienced. I wanted to be someone who would praise God even when the worst imaginable thing happened. God finally gave me the opportunity to try. And, as with everything these days, I find out just how immeasurably small my contribution to my own life actually is.

I remember vividly when the music minister from my church came to be with me in the hospital. I had just found out devastating news. Through tear-flooded eyes, I looked up at him with the only response that made sense to me: “I want to worship God. Can you lead me in that?” He faithfully obliged. I want to be clear: this was not some sort of character strength of mine or some such claim that I’m devout or a great Christian or anything like that. This was a NATURAL response. And by “natural” I mean “supernatural,” as in the Holy Spirit in me created this spiritual response that I couldn’t ignore. I had to praise. It was literally the only thing that made sense, and it still is. God gave me a wife and beautiful marriage. He allowed that to be taken away. Praise His name. I wish I could describe the feeling that wells up inside of me as I say that. There is nothing more true to me than the Lord’s praises when I think about His involvement in this and His taking my wife away.

For whatever reason, it was only yesterday that I remembered that Job said that. I have felt his words for the past month or so, but forgot that he expressed it exactly as I felt it. And then tonight, I got to worship at a church that I attended for the first time where we sang “Blessed Be the Name of the Lord.” In that song, it says, “He gives and takes away. My heart will choose to say, ‘Lord, blessed be Your name.'” I’m so glad I was there for that song, and I’m sure I’ve never sung it louder than I did tonight. It is the cry of my heart to declare His praises to the entire world. And if you’re reading this, I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to do just that.

Some people were confused by the fact that Stephanie’s engagement ring was what most people consider a ten-year anniversary ring. For us, we mostly just loved how it looked, but we also loved the idea of past, present, and future. She also was not a jewelry girl and knew she wouldn’t want to ever replace or upgrade her ring, so we always said that this was her ten-year anniversary present ten years early. It’s crushing that we didn’t get a chance to even make it that far.

A month ago was the day everything started. In fact, 31 days and 33 minutes ago as I write this was when her seizure started. I both can’t believe it’s been a month already and that it’s only been a month. Every time I think about that last moment, it feels like it’s a moment that is infinite in time and was only a second ago. I literally feel like I could reach back and touch that moment with my hand. It’s that visceral and tangible to me. And I think it always will be.

But it’s been a month. Thirty days ago, I wouldn’t have been able to imagine making it a month enduring such pain, but everyone does. Anyone who’s been where I am knows that you just keep going – you make it, however it needs to happen. When I was in the hospital, I kept saying, “I can’t believe a week ago we were doing that together.” Then it was, “I can’t believe two weeks ago was her birthday and we were celebrating and loving life together.” Now it’s, “A month ago was the last time I talked to her. I’ve never gone more than a day without talking to her, and now it’s been 30.”

I took my ring off today, just to see how I would do. I’m normally not the type of person to ever take off something like that. A lot of me never wants to, but another part of me feels like it’s slightly inaccurate to wear it. I’m still not sure how I feel about it. Stephanie never wore her rings around the house as they were uncomfortable, but she proudly displayed them when going out, and I never took mine off. It always made me so happy. I’ll probably put it back on, but only time will tell.

Now I start counting the time since it all happened in months instead of weeks.

Like movies, Stephanie and I had been really getting into TV shows. We suspect it’s because they are becoming more serial and thus more like long movies just cut into weekly segments. Anyway, one of those shows we watched together was Glee. I’ve been trying to catch up on the shows I missed throughout this month, and finally decided to start watching Glee. The episode I had to start with is called Grilled Cheesus and aired two days after Stephanie’s crippling seizure. I mention the air date because of the story and because it originally aired while I was in the midst of everything going on. Part of me wishes I saw it then. Part of me is glad I didn’t.

I won’t recommend the show because of some sexual content I don’t care for (including this episode), but it was a poignant episode for me for a couple reasons. One of the main characters found himself dealing with the fact that his dad had a lack of oxygen to the brain which caused a heart attack. The story was the same: doctors didn’t know if he would wake up, what kind of damage might have been done by the lack of oxygen, etc. What was vastly different was that this character (Kurt) very much doesn’t believe in God and they made that point throughout the episode.

I could easily go through the episode scene by scene, but this post would be forever long, so I’ll avoid that. I was struck initially by the first song of the episode – “Only the Good Die Young” by Billy Joel. Really, what more can I say about that? Secondly, Kurt just wants his dad to squeeze his hand if he can hear him. Stephanie, upon coming out of her seizures would often squeeze my hand to let me know she heard me and was okay and often with three squeezes to say “I love you.” How difficult it can be to have a lack of touch!

Much of this episode presented the idea that there’s no reason to believe in God. Kurt says, “I appreciate your thoughts, but I don’t want your prayers.” I have felt much the opposite. I need your prayers. And while I appreciate your thoughts, it’s the prayers that are really getting me through. Kurt also sends his friends away when they’re in the hospital praying for his dad, in order to have acupuncture done because “pins pierce the skin better than psalms.” I couldn’t disagree more, and also couldn’t want people praying more and being around Stephanie. Someone had said to me that with all the people praying, God wouldn’t be able to stop hearing her name any moment throughout the day. And I still very much trust God more than any doctor or acupuncture specialist or any other human.

Another character (Finn) spends the episode praying to a cheese sandwich with the impression of Jesus on it, and says that he felt like he had a direct line to God because his prayers were being answered. After that’s over, he’s not sure how to feel. What I wanted to scream is, “You do have a direct line to God!”

The last thing to mention is the last song: “One of Us” by Joan Osborne. She says “What if God was one of us? Just a stranger on a bus? Just a slob like one of us?” and “If God had a name, what would it be?” My youth pastor in high school said regarding this song, “God was one of us.” That song has been so much more meaningful since he said that to me. God’s name was and is Jesus. Jesus was one of us. He was human and just like all of us. And I am reminded of that in these days. Jesus was forced to deal with all the wrong and all the badness of this world and all the hard situations. He lost a friend. He was betrayed. He was tortured. And He understands it all, and He understands what I’m going through right now, as well as what everyone else in the world is going through.

While watching Glee, it was hard to be reminded of so much of my situation, but I was even more just overwhelmed with grief and sadness for Kurt, who was missing out on so much more that God has for us when we just trust and believe and look to Him. I always thought that Christians have hope in death because we know that person is in Heaven. While that’s true, my bigger source of hope is in the fact that I know God has a plan for me. And even though I thought that plan would include Stephanie, I now know it doesn’t. But the plan does include me, and I have hope in that fact and hope in God for that.

This week will being my migration back home. I’ve been fortunate to take things slowly and work my way back to “the new normal” for my life. While at my parents, I’ve dealt with the absence of Stephanie as much as possible while here. I’ve encountered a few situations that were difficult and dealt with those. I’ll spend this week trying to spend a little more time at my house over each day, and start handling as much as I can.

I put it best in my personal journal: “I’ll have to start taking care of laundry. I’ll have to start figuring out meals. Bedtime will be all me. Bathtime will be me. Diapers. Me. Clothes. Me. Dogs. Me. Drinks. Me. Loneliness. Just me. And it’s going to suck, all over again.” This is where the adjustment really takes on shape. I have to learn to do those things that Stephanie always took care of. I know it will be good for me – well, at least in whatever sense that’s possible. Anyway, I’ll be slowly getting to the point where I’m (mostly) on my own the entire day.

Part of me is looking forward to it. I’ve never been good at change, so I’m really hoping to make good on this change and do myself and my kids right. It’s really the only choice I have, but I want to give my best effort and not just let it happen. We’ll see how it goes, and I’ll let you know.

God is doing a lot in my heart these days. He is speaking to me in ways I would have never thought possible. He is ministering to my soul and nourishing my spirit daily if not hourly. He is being so incredibly gracious to me. His love for me is uncanny and unequaled.

A comment led me to thinking about how desperate I am for my time to come when I will enter Heaven and see my bride once again. I remember mentioning this idea in the past, too. Something has changed, though, and is changing. While that desire will never go away, I am finding myself more and more desperate for the rest of my life. I am getting giddy about what God has planned for me. I know they are good plans. I know it’s for my best and for the best of other people. I would love to be in Heaven right now (and scorn this sinful life), but I can feel in the very depths of me that God is not done with me yet here on earth. I’m excited to see what’s in store. I can’t wait to be used by Him and to serve Him.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11

I was just reading a post that a fellow blogger wrote about me and all that has happened. It really got me thinking as she is not the first to make comments about how strong I am or about my unwavering faith and such other things that make it sound like I’m some fabulous person. While it really means a lot to me to hear these things, I want to be sure to keep myself in check and a good way to do that is to proclaim the truth right here for all to read.

It’s not me. Amidst all this turmoil and devastation, I have long been emptied of anything reminiscent of myself. God very quickly and easily filled that emptiness with Who He is. God is literally shining through my life because He’s good like that. He’s gracious enough to consider us worthy of showing off His glory. When people say such things about me, they’re really talking about God and such compliments are indicative of Who He is. I don’t know why He’s allowing me to receive His glory via these comments, but that’s what seems to be happening.

I don’t deserve what has been said of me – God does. God is perhaps allowing these things to be said of me because of the encouragement it provides me and it is His way of further sustaining me. I’ve always wanted to be used by God, and it seems He has answered my prayers. But it’s entirely about His answering and not about my prayers.

I’m not quite sure how it started or came up, but Brady was sad about something entirely unrelated when I asked him what was wrong. He said, “I just thinking ’bout Mommy.” At that, he started bawling. So, I scooped him up in my arms and cuddled him on the couch, asking if he missed Mommy. “Yeah.” And now I was crying, angry yet again at God for taking my kids’ mommy away from them. After a little bit, he pulled away from me and asked what I was doing. I told him I was crying because I miss Mommy, too, and he said, “You not s’posed to cry.” “Why not?” “Because I love you.”

And thus ended his tears as well, and he was now asking to go into the crawlspace to play. Despite hating being in there to play, how could I possibly say “no” at that point? He was fine after that, but I certainly won’t soon forget how horrible it was to see him go through that. This is the first real emotion he’s shown about it, at least of the crying sort.

My job is incredible. I should rephrase that: the people at my job are incredible. The only word for it, and one that is often used is “family.”

I have been given an amazing amount of grace regarding my return date (which is still a ways off). Everyone above me has made sure to let me know that I will be supported and not to worry. If that weren’t enough, they let me attend our annual “party” (for lack of a better word) yesterday and today, even though I won’t be working for a bit.

And with that came everyone’s warmth and enthusiasm to see me. I didn’t realize how much love I had yet to feel after all of this. And I felt so much love today, with people saying just how seriously glad they were to see me. I just about cry to think about it. I’m so touched.

I got to have fun playing games and see friends and spend some really great time getting to know new friends. There was great food, with which I gorged myself and made up for any lack of eating I’ve had over the last few weeks. And I got to play Euchre, which may be my favorite card/board game and has been largely absent from my life since college.

A great big thanks to everyone at work. You all make it hard to not want to come back much sooner rather than later. And when I do, I’ll have to be careful about how much I hang out with folks.

Many of you have asked how the kids were doing. I’ve been meaning to post about that for a while, too, but have been a slacker.

Halle is just 19 months old so she does a great job walking and babbling and having tantrums. Understanding complex ideas? Not so much. For all I know, she just is having a good time getting to be at Nana and Papa’s for an extended “vacation.” She’s loving it (except for those tantrums I mentioned). I had her home very briefly, but the real test will be when we’re back home for good and seeing if she wanders around looking for Mommy. Expect that day to be soul-crushing if it happens.

As for Brady, I got great advice from folks at a place called Cornerstone of Hope, which was started by a family who lost a young child and now they minister to people who are grieving. I also received some books and pamphlets about toddlers and death. So, I was prepared to explain it all to Brady as plainly as possible (i.e. not using alternative phrases for things like “she passed on”). The night I had originally planned for it was the Thursday immediately after Stephanie was gone, but decided against it because of how the night was going and it said that kids remember how and when they found out and what they were doing. Heart-breakingly, Brady asked me that very night, “Why Mommy no love me long time?” He was afraid that Mommy was at home or the hospital and didn’t want to see him. I reassured him of her love for him and prepared to explain everything Friday morning.

It went well. I reminded him of Mommy’s seizures and explained that it was why she was at the doctor’s and why Brady and Halle were at Nana and Papa’s house. I told him that they had been trying to make her better, but she was too sick and the doctors couldn’t make her feel better and so she died. That was followed by talk of Heaven and how we’ll be with her again someday, but now we can’t see her or talk to her. She won’t be at home, but Daddy and Nana and Papa and other family members and friends would make sure he and Halle were taken care of. I told him that Jesus could pass along messages to Mommy if we want to tell her we miss her and love her. And he’s allowed to feel anything he wants; that even Daddy gets very sad or mad or worried or scared. He did a great job with all of it. We then drew some pictures to put in the casket (which I also explained – “her body will be in a box, but it’s just her body and not Mommy”). He even told my uncle and his second cousin that Mommy is dead now and in Heaven. He seems to get it. He asked to go home that day, which we did, and he just played with his toys while we were there, which I’m told is a healthy sign.

He will occasionally tell me he loves me and then follow it with, “And I love Mommy.” There have been a couple comments from him where I thought he might still not be sure, but when I ask him about it, he actually understands even more than I had thought. He’s a very bright kid and has a great memory, so I’m not surprised by his grasping of things. I’m still angry that they don’t have their mother, but at least they’re doing okay about it.

I spent some time this afternoon just thinking about all my friends, especially those who are new to me because of all of this. Obviously, nothing makes it worth losing my wife to me, but I’m just so thankful for all my friends, whether I’ve known them for one day, one week, one month, one year, or one lifetime. I will say that Facebook has been a much more active part of my life these days, and apparently a tragedy warrants more friend requests than I was getting beforehand. (Not sure what that says for me as a person, but that’s neither here nor there, I suppose.)

But, my point is not the humor I’m finding in the situation, but rather the gratefulness I have for those people who care so much about me “sight unseen.” I now have some new friends, and right now, friends (family, included) are everything to me. I gave everything in me to my marriage because I love hard, and spent all my relationship energy on my wife and kids. Certainly nothing will change the love I have for my kids, but I am finding how good it is to have so many friends (i.e. adults) around to talk to about everything going on.

Anyway, as usual, thanks again for all of you. If you’re new to my life, thank you for jumping right in and loving me as if you’ve known me for years. If you’ve known me for years, thank you for your endless devotion and for understanding that even I don’t know how I need to grieve and being okay with that.