Goodbye '08

The year has been more confusing to me than any other in my life. I believe many of my posts attest to that. I’m not where I thought I would be, but I’m not sure where I was even thinking I would conclude this year. I had hoped to finally be in a larger city, preferably New York or Philly. I went outside the box by putting my notice in at a steady job before I had another lined up. Not practical, not me, but a step of faith that I felt God’s leading in. It was a step I had to take to release my hands from control and to walk by faith. It was hard for me to understand why God did not reveal my next door when I had no doubt of His lead in stepping out.

My cousin invited me to live with his family for the summer while I sought God’s will. Indiana was not a place I would have ever pictured myself, despite the family ties I have there; but I packed up my car and headed north excited about the opportunities that would come. It wasn’t long before the summer ended. I had no more leads than when it had begun. I found myself heading back to Florida with my packed car and my discouraged heart. My head was so empty and my stare was blank as my car carried me along the necessary roads.

Shortly after my return the call came about my grandma. Despite the lack of direction in my life, I knew I was in Florida for a reason during that time. I needed to be with her and my mom as she was dying. Of course, her passing led to another round road trip to Indiana.

I had made up my mind earlier in the year to reestablish the Christmas season within my heart. I needed an escape from the traditional. I was determined to make it a realization, even if I was back in my hometown. I’m glad I held to this desire that God had laid on my heart, because it was a blessing.

I conclude this year with no more direction than I began it with, but an undying faith that God is faithful and true. I was listening to Matt Redman’s “You Never Let Go” earlier. It brings my weary heart hope. I wanted to share his words below.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Your perfect love is casting out fear
And even when I’m caught in the middle of the storms of this life
I won’t turn back
I know You are near

And I will fear no evil
For my God is with me
And if my God is with me
Whom then shall I fear?
Whom then shall I fear?

Chorus:
Oh no, You never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go
In every high and every low
Oh no, You never let go
Lord, You never let go of me

And I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
A glorious light beyond all compare
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
We’ll live to know You here on the earth

Chorus:
Yes, I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
Still I will praise You, still I will praise You

My 2008 is now history. I would relate it to Jacob’s wrestling experience in the wilderness (see Genesis 32:22-32). It has been a restless time. My 2009 is in God’s hands. I’m not sure what they hold for me, but I know each day calls for me to seize the potential God has filled it with. My only known plan as I enter 2009 is to pick up my Master’s program again. I have already started studying and I am finding inspiration as I begin this pursuit. I will continue the next door for me, but it is most important for me live in His will for today.

A Joyous Journey

The following is a poem my cousin wrote for our grandma and read at her funeral. The words are so very fitting for Grandma.

A Joyous Journey
Kerri Bree, October 18, 2008

In honor of Ruth DeHaven

A woman of true virtue

is who I remember you to be…

Faithful and sincere

with a great love for the Lord,

Devoted to your husband

for nearly fifty years.

A loving and caring mother,

all six I know would say,

A bounty of both grandchildren and

great-grandchildren, with a glorious legacy.

Kingdom-minded

I know you were indeed,

Thank you for caring

about where I’d spend eternity.

Singing and praises

constantly on your lips,

Thanksgiving and joy

overflowing from your heart.

A joyous journey

truly your life has been,

To know the love of Christ

and be satisfied in Him.

The Lord has now called you home,

forever with Him to be.

I count it joy and not loss,

for I know this is not the last of you I’ll see.

A Letter to Grandma

Dear Grandma,

We celebrated your life today. The funeral home was packed with people who love you. The services were beautiful and only admiration was spoken of the life you lived here. After seventeen years we laid your body in the earth beside Grandpa’s. It was beautiful out. The sun was warm and the air was cool. Colorful leaves are beginning to blanket the grass. It was the perfect time of year for you.

Thank you for all that you have been. Thank you for putting God first in all you did. Our lives are a product of yours. There was never a day in my life that I doubted your walk with God. I didn’t know until today that you had had a heart for underprivileged young girls and had spent a portion of your young ministry working with them. It’s a passion I share. I want to invest my life in underprivileged urban youth. I will.

We will miss you and will long to be with you again, but we are glad these last years have closed for you. We know they were with reason, but they were long and it was hard to see you fade from us over the time. We are happy you are with Jesus and Grandpa now. See you soon.

Love,
Rebekah (Becky)

Life's Worth

It’s been a long journey with my grandma's Alzheimer’s. I remember picking her up for church back in high school when we were becoming concerned for her and didn’t feel comfortable with her driving. I remember flying up north with her for a cousin’s wedding. Her memory was already failing her in so many obvious and sad ways that were only heightened as she was removed from her daily environment, but sitting a seat behind her on the flight I listened to her proudly talk to another passenger about us family and the wedding she was headed to. I remember my mom and her siblings talking about the need of putting her in an assisted living facility and it wasn’t going to work out for her to stay in Melbourne, and being relieved that she was actually going to one in Clearwater shortly before I would be starting college in that area. Eight years have passed since that move and they have been filled hard to comprehend moments as her mind has distanced her from us. The biggest question of course has been, “Why God?” Some patients go quicker than others, but it’s hard to understand the reasoning in someone living so long after the mind appears so useless. I would visit and just hope she somehow knew I was there, but while I looked at her physical face she seemed so absent. These last years, I couldn’t help but pray after every visit, “God, please take her home.” It’s different than an individual suffering from other diseases. I don’t believe the pain of other situations is easier, but I can understand purposes that can still be fulfilled on this earth. I’ve always believed attitude is everything and it can be a strong testimony to others as one endures suffering. It’s hard to understand how their testimony can live through them when they can’t communicate it any longer. It’s hard to walk in and watch my grandma fidget in an agitated manner without being able to fill my own head with possible “wills of God” for her state. It hit me after my last visit. I was headed up to Indiana for this summer and with the uncertainty of plans for after that point I didn’t know if I’d be back down to see her again. I finally realized I don’t have to know the answer because I know there IS an answer. I know Who holds it and I know only One needs to hold it. Maybe the answer is simply in the rest of us being able to live out that understanding-God is my answer. The answer may be in the family’s testimony or may be any other number of things, but what I no longer think knowing the answer is important in my life. What is important is being able to lean on my faith that nothing is without purpose. God does not waste lives or portions of lives. All is worth while.

I left Clearwater Saturday; her vitals remain stable although more than a week has passed since she had any nourishment. Hospice tells us each patient is different; it all depends on her heart. My mind was with her Sunday while I sang at church.

There is none like You
No one else can touch my heart like You do
I could search for all eternity long and find
There is none like You

I understand this song describes how nothing else can compare to God in our lives, but truth of that found a new meaning in my state of mind. “No one else can touch my heart like You do.” The remaining hours of my grandma’s life ride on the strength of her heart. Nothing can touch her heart like the Source of life. “I could search for all eternity long and find there is none like You.” She has God within her, however poor her quality of life has been (by our human minds’ standards) these past years, there is nothing more in this world that can give her life greater meaning. Put aside all the questioning, her life in this moment holds just as much value in Him as my own. Because of God’s sovereignty I can trust that fact.

Grandma's Last Days

The call came this past Saturday evening. Shortly after, my mom could barely relay the message to me that my grandma was in her last days. She had quit eating and was now nonresponsive. It’s been a slow decline over several years and the call was simply a matter of time, but it was still hard watching my mom handle the initial rush of emotion that was only to be expected in this next step. I have never been an emotional person, so I always just try my best to be a supportive person.

I did have a short moment of emotion. My breakdown happened at two in the morning and kind of surprised me as I laid in bed thinking about my grandma and memories. It’s so dumb, but it hit me that I was about to be the only redhead left in the family. How embarrassing to even post this. I think it was just something to do with the fact that it one thing I have from her that nobody else in this large family does. My breakdown lasted all of an approximate thirty seconds before I realized how ridiculous I was alone in my dark room at such a crazy hour. The best and most standout memory of my grandma, that I only can strive to make part of my own character, has been her overall closeness to God. When I think of her I picture her going throughout her daily happenings and humming different hymns that she cherished. It was something as natural to her as breathing.

The day after the call I made the trip with my mom across Florida and by Sunday afternoon we were at my grandma’s bedside at the assisted living facility in Clearwater. These last few days have been filled with obligations of preparatory work and with time in my grandma’s room. Not too many changes yet, just small evidences of decline. The hospice care just continues to remind us it can continue slowly or turn downward at any moment. Every person is different.

My mom has seemed okay for the most part. It’s good there are things to take care of. We were cleaning her things from her room yesterday with my cousin and so much of it was covered with dust. Out of nowhere the one sudden movement from my grandma was a loud sneeze. It made us laugh.

Today the worker from hospice told me the picture of my grandpa as a young soldier immediately made her think of me, because she noted where I had gotten my big brown eyes from. It meant so much because I was grandpa’s girl until the day he died years ago. I admire him so much and nobody has really told me that before. There have been times I’ve wished my eyes weren’t so big, but never again!

My mom and I decided we needed to put some music on for her today since hospice tells us she can still hear. Of course her choice would be hymns, but as I searched on her old radio I told her she was going have to settle with contemporary Christian. Shortly after my mom came back in Mercy Me’s “I Can Only Imagine” came on. (I believe it’s a great song, but the overplaying of it and its overkill in churches annoys me.) However, suddenly as the hospice worker excused herself and my mom found her place at her mom’s side the song became ours in that moment. I glanced out that window and saw cars pass by as everyone went about their lives as we all do. My eyes moved back to our quiet room. Her hours are dwindling in this world, but I am excited that what our earthly minds can only imagine she is about to realize.

My sister made it in tonight after her determined drive from Virginia. Everyone that is going to try to see her one last time has been here. We now wait for God’s time.

She’s my last grandparent and I grew up with her always being nearby, but I’m ready for God to have her with Him now.