Only One

It has been over 10 months since Midi and Nathan died. During that time, I think I've felt the sting of not having Nathan more frequently than the sting of not having Midi. This has more to do with the fact that as I continue to be Lucas' father, I miss Nathan so much. I miss being his dad, too. I experience this particular kind of bittersweetness of life everyday, many times a day. In a few weeks, I am going to have to face this in the most intense way. I anticipate that the days when Lucas turns five on December 1st (and Nathan does not) and when we celebrate on December 6th will be the hardest, most bittersweet days. Pray for me, Midi's parents, and my parents. I don't know how we are going to make it through those days.

But lately, I've really been missing Midi and my mourning has focused on her. It would have been her 35th birthday this past October 29th. There was only one Midi. There was only one who I loved for all of those years. There was only one whose love I desired and pursued. There was only one who I wanted to marry, be family with, raise children with. There was only one who I dreamed of living with the rest of my life, going on walks with until the day when one of us couldn't walk anymore. There was only one whose walk with God I cared about more than my own, who I wanted to see grow and flourish, who I wanted to see bless others with her gifts. There was only one Midi.

There are so many wonderful qualities that Midi had. What has come into focus for me the past couple of weeks though is what a strong woman she was. But not strong in the traditional or cultural sense. She was strong because she was secure. She never felt the need to convince others that she was right and they were wrong. Our culture has a way of telling women that they need to be everything and do everything. They need to be pure. If not, then they are deemed a "slut", whereas a man is deemed a "player". They need to be attractive by hollywood standards. They need to be independent, strong, family-first, successful, take care of their flawed husband. So much pressure. And that pressure causes so many problems if a woman doesn't know who she is. Midi knew who she was.

She was a safe place for everyone. There was nothing about a person that could keep her from loving them. She wouldn't allow any barrier to block someone out of her life. They could be black/white/brown/yellow, rich/poor, gay/straight, truthful/deceitful, Christian/non-Christian, liberal/conservative, male/female, old/young, smart/dumb, careful/reckless, broken/healed. And everyone knew that about her. She definitely sought to understand more than to be understood.

Back when Midi and I got together (2000), if you had asked those who knew us both (mostly from our UCLA days) about who was the more accomplished spiritual leader or whose faith was stronger, I think 10 out of 10 would have said Midi. I would have been one of those 10, for sure! But there was something about me that Midi saw that I'm not sure others did. And I think that this is more a reflection of who she was than who I was. She trusted me. From day one, she trusted me. Or maybe more accurately, she trusted God. Though I was a work in progress (still am...we all are) she saw the finished picture - and she liked it. She was able to do so, I think, because she was so secure. She was secure as child of God. But she was also secure as a woman. She was secure enough to put herself in the vulnerable position of trusting me to lead us and to do good for her. She didn't have a problem receiving my love. She never felt the need to fight for herself with me. She never felt that she would lose herself with me. She trusted that I heard her, listened to her, valued her, and desired only good for her. And so she was able to jump in with both feet and swim in my love for her.

Not everyone can do this.

But she also knew her value to me. She knew that a guy who saw the world in black and white could use the perspective of one who was comfortable in the grays. She knew that a guy who leaned so heavily towards the truth/justice side of the "Truth/Justice to Love/Grace" scale could really benefit from one who embraced the love/grace side. She knew that our children would receive the best of both worlds from us, partnering together. She knew that by trusting me and trusting that my love for her was unconditional and unbreakable, she was empowering me all the more to love her and lead our family. She knew that she was good for me, and I for her.

I was blessed to be married to Midi for over 6.5 years. We did not have a perfect marriage, but ours was a healthy marriage, never in jeopardy for a second. I realize that one of the enduring gifts that God has given me through Midi is wisdom and perspective regarding marriage. Before my life with Midi, I could never have counseled a young couple about how to deal with conflict. Now I can. What is sad for me though is that while I can bless others from my experiences in marriage with Midi, I can no longer experience it myself. I only have memories left. Bittersweet. Thank you God for Midi. But why did you allow her to die?

Acceptance = Submission

I've been in a funk of late, struggling to connect with God. I thought that it was because August has been such a crazy month. I've been on the road a lot and for the past couple of weeks Lucas' school has been closed as they prepare for the start of the next school year. So my summer, which to that point had been full but fruitful had in some ways been derailed - my routine disrupted. But a couple of days ago during a counseling session with my friend Sam I realized that this funk didn't happen because of a disruption in my routine but started on that night in Santa Barbara when I declared that I would trade my present for my past.

I realized that I had made a declaration that my present would never be good enough. No matter how God redeems and rebuilds and makes things new, it would never be good enough. In making this declaration, I put up a wall between me and God. I put up a wall and closed my heart to the one that has been with me in my suffering. I understood then that I have not accepted what has happened. Acceptance of what has happened and what my reality is now is hard. It has been, is, and will be my biggest act of faith. Acceptance is submission. But it is only in a posture of submission that any of us can receive from God. This is the battle that I must fight. And maybe it seems cruel that I have to fight for anything after what I've been through. It may seem that submission is bad. All of our human instincts fight against submission. If I choose to look at my situation as God forcing me to submit to Him, then I will struggle with Him. I will hate Him. But if I choose to look at submission as an opportunity to allow God in, and if I believe that He is good, then it will be a wise choice.

I'm learning that the past is a powerful force. For some of us, the past was so horrible that we are stuck in it. Abuse, neglect, loss, guilt, and shame keep us from being able to receive from the fully present God because they are rooted in the past and keep us stuck there. For others, the past was so wonderful that we cannot imagine that our present or future can compare. And so we close ourselves to the present God. This is the camp that I'm in. And this is the camp that I need to fight to get out of .

I have experienced God's presence in my life. But His presence in my past, even if it was just yesterday, is not enough to carry me through today. Even if my present is full of pain, I can have access to His presence if I choose. He offers to walk with me, one day at a time, if I will choose to abide in Him. But to abide, I must trust Him. I must submit.

Maybe there is a way that I can fully accept that my past life with Midi and Nathan was wonderful but is now gone. Maybe I can accept that to even consider trading the present for the past is not an option and so shouldn't be considered. And maybe I can accept what my life is now and I can choose to walk with God. And maybe I can escape the paradigm of comparison, or of cause and effect. Maybe I can be fully grateful for the past and the present. I don't know yet. But I'm wrestling with Him now, instead of building the wall.

Trade

"All those years I fell for the great palace lie that grief should be gotten over as quickly as possible and as privately. But what I've discovered since is that the lifelong fear of grief keeps us in a barren, isolated place and that only grieving can heal grief; the passage of time will lessen the acuteness, but time alone, without the direct experience of grief, will not heal it." ... "I'm pretty sure that it is only by experiencing the ocean of sadness in a naked and immediate way that we come to be healed - which is to say, that we come to experience life with a real sense of presence and spaciousness and peace." (Anne Lamott from Traveling Mercies)


My life is good.

As I sat outside a beautiful house, in a beautiful garden, in beautiful Santa Barbara, with the presence of thousands of stars, with meteors splashing light across the night sky, I reflected on how good my life is. I have an amazing son, who I am able to love more deeply than before, who I take joy in, who is so fun to be around. I have deep, deep friendships with several men I can call brothers that have been growing stronger week by week. I am a part of a vibrant, alive community of faith, where people of every color and walk of life love each other and exist to include others. I am growing in my love for FOL as I give it more of my heart and receive more from them. I have parents (Midi's as well as my own) who I love deeply and who love me deeply right back. I have family that I'm growing closer to as we learn to walk together through pain. And I have some who are starting to get to know Jesus. This brings me great joy. I know Jesus as the present one, the one who is with me, who comforts me and brings me peace. I know this Jesus in ways that I did not know him before the accident.

As I sat outside mindful of how good my life is and what wonderful things are happening around me, I felt strongly in my heart that I would give it all back to have Midi and Nathan back in my life. There is something in this that seems perfectly natural - of course I'm supposed to feel this way! But as I cried and cried I wondered if there will be a point where I am able to fully embrace the blessings of my present life without comparing it to (and wanting to trade it for) my blessed life with them? And I feel guilty in saying this at this stage, but I hope there is. If the day ever comes, I cannot imagine that I can marry again or welcome another child while continuing to feel this.

I think that this is yet another example of how we must all live in the present. As much as I want to, I cannot have my past back. I can always have the love I feel for Midi and Nathan because love is organic; love is living. Love is very present. It is the life with them that I cannot have again this side of heaven. My past life with Midi and Nathan was so, so good. It was special. Though it wasn't perfect, it was perfect to me. But my present life is pretty good, too. And good things are happening all around me. I hope I can embrace the present, where God himself dwells, with completely open arms. And someday, I hope that I will accept the beauty of my past and the fact that it is gone so that I will stop feeling in my heart that I would trade the present for it.

BitterSweet

"Oh taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!" (Psalm 34.8)

Bittersweet. This is the word that describes so much of my experience now. Things like enjoying Kung-Fu Panda with Lucas, and Midi's cousin Mina's family are bittersweet. Bitter because I think of how much Nathan would have enjoyed the slapstick humor and how much Midi would have enjoyed the verbal silliness with me and what a fun day out it would have been for my family. But yet it is also sweet. Seeing Lucas laugh heartily and talk about scenes from the movie with me days later is sweet. Growing in my love for Lucas is sweet.

My heart is expanding. I can feel it growing. My capacity to love better is greater. Even a wonderful thing like this is bittersweet. Bitter because I wish that I could love Midi and Nathan with this improved me. This will not go away this side of heaven. But it is so sweet what God is doing with me as I continue to trust in Him. What He is doing out of the ashes is a miracle. There is no rational explanation for why I am not a complete mess. I am not willing it to happen. I get strength, comfort, truth and perspective from the Word. I drink the Living Water. And I have a committed family of faith that loves me and lifts me up. I am a blessed man.

So while I will always feel the bitterness of loss and pain until the day I die, I am able to experience sweetness in life with Jesus greater than I was able to before the tragedy. I vowed to Midi that I would honor her. I believe that I do so by loving others with this sweeter love that I am able to give - to Lucas, to family, to my community, to my friends, and to the lost.

Because of Midi

Today was a challenging day of parenting. Lucas spilled a full cup of milk all over the floor. I wasn't pleased, but I forgave him, cleaned it up, and strongly urged him to use both hands and to pay attention (I think he knocked it over because he was fixated on the TV). After giving him another cup of milk, I briefly went to the other room. When I returned, I found that the second cup of milk had been spilled. I sent Lucas to his room, angrily cleaned up the mess, and stormed up the stairs to confront him. Trying to talk to him, I found that I was really seething with anger. So I left him in the room and went to mine to think about how to handle the situation. This was the first time since Midi died that I felt so burdened by the weight of raising a child by myself. I looked up at a framed collage of Midi and Nathan and acutely felt Midi's absence as a parent and partner. I wept. I wished that Midi was with us. My instincts told me to lash out in anger over Lucas' carelessness. But I knew that if Midi was present, she would show patience and grace to her son. I somehow felt empowered to do the same. So I went to Lucas' room and I looked into his eyes and told him that I forgave him. Then I held him for a long time.

Midi's influence on me is great. Moments such as these are so bittersweet, as is much of life now. I bitterly miss Midi. But I am so grateful that I was blessed to have her in my life, to be her partner and lover. Her lasting impact on me is sweet. I loved Lucas better today because of Midi.

Not Afraid

It's been almost six months since Midi and Nathan died. I used to wonder when the pain will go away and when I would be left with just scars. I don't anymore. I've come to a place where I know and accept that for the rest of my life, I will feel my loss. And when I do, it will hurt. There will never be a time of remembering them that my heart will not ache. And yet I am not afraid of the pain. I am not afraid that it will rip me apart or sink me into an unsalvageable despair. I have a relationship with my pain. I am glad for it in some ways. It keeps my heart connected to these two souls that I love so much.

There is a reason why I am not afraid. I have a relationship with God. It has made all the difference. In my darkest hours, He has been with me. He has answered my prayers. He has taught me so much in these six months. I am thankful that I've had eyes to see, ears to hear, and the heart to perceive what He has been doing. I suppose I've made some good choices. I've chosen to cling to the Truth. I've chosen to walk through my suffering with those who love me. I've chosen to love others, not focusing on my own tough circumstances. But it is God who is sustaining me. So much of what I've learned in the past about God I am now experiencing. He is the Living Water. "...those who drink of the water that I give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life." (John 4.14). "I am the Bread of Life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty." (John 6.35) We need water and food to live. We need it every day. I am learning this these past six months.

The three key moments that the living God intervened to rescue me from complete despair:

1. When at the mortuary, looking at their bodies in the caskets, weeping uncontrollably I asked Him to give me a sign that would give me assurance that they were with Him and that heaven was real. Instead of a sign, He gave me himself - through the Holy Spirit in the form of supernatural peace.

2. When going through the heaviest wave of grief, crying almost continuously for several days I asked Him to temporarily take the pain away because I didn't feel that I could survive much more. He did.

3. The week leading up to Mother's Day, I was anticipating an extremely heavy weekend of pain. God preemptively eased my fears by allowing me to partner with Him. It was my most significant week of ministry in the workplace in 12 years - Two students and one friend for whom God used me to speak comforting truth. Though I still had a difficult weekend, seeing how God was freeing others gave me assurance that my faith in Him was not futile, that my tears were collected, that I would not be forgotten, that Midi and Nathan were fulfilled in Him.

I will remember these ways that God has been ever present. They are powerful memorials that will help me fight unbelief. As powerful as they are, it is the daily relationship with Him that will keep me hydrated and fed. I love abiding in the Truth. I need God. I have no shame in declaring this. He loves me. I don't deserve His love, but I accept it with open arms.

Happy Mother's Day, Midi

Midi with Lucas on her 1st Mother's Day (2004)

Midi was an amazing mother. I knew she would be. It was one of the main reasons why I wanted to marry her. She was as nurturing, kind, affectionate, patient, generous, and loving as any mother could be. Nathan and Lucas were truly blessed to have her as their mother. She embraced the role with all of her heart. I loved seeing her in her role as the boys' mommy. I trusted her completely. She would play with them, teach them, and comfort them so wonderfully. Though there were times where she was exhausted and times where she may have struggled to remain patient, she always loved them well. Lucas' loss is immense.

Lucas, from what I can perceive, is doing very well. Midi would be so proud of him. His joyful, silly spirit has not been crushed by his losses. I can only trust that God is taking care of Lucas in the depths of his soul. I hope with all of my heart that the 4 years and 1 month (plus the 37 weeks in the womb) that Lucas had with Midi will leave a permanent impression on him. I believe it has. Though Lucas' personality is more like mine, I pray that the imprint of Midi has forever set him on a course of compassion, kindness, and deep joy. Because of Midi, I know that I am a more compassionate, kind, and joyful person than I was before she was so deeply in my life. I praise and thank God for Midi. I am sure that He sees her as one of his greatest creations. She was "fearfully and wonderfully made." (Psalm 139.14) Thank you, Lord, for Midi.