These Four Words

April has been a month of reflection.

A reconciliation of what Jesus did for us on the cross. A reminder of anniversaries and birthdays. A reminder that eight years ago our marriage came to life. 

I find myself getting lost in thought going back ten years when we wheeled my sister into the operating room for her first surgery a week after receiving her cancer diagnoses. I can hear the words she spoke to me as I told her I loved her. I can see Tim with open arms ready to catch his bride as he surprised me at the hospital in Portland, I remember the first moments after surgery quickly brushing Traci's teeth before visitors came and can smell the Olive Garden dinner that fed the waiting room of friends and family. 

I look back at the first moments in the Mission House post surgery as Mom and I got Traci comfortable before I needed to head back home.

I think about my parents as they celebrate their 39th wedding anniversary this month with one less child verbally telling them, "Happy Anniversary." What was it like when they got married? What were the political news stories at that time? Did they have dreams and vision for themselves and how have they met those dreams years later? Did they ever think for a second they'd bury a child before themselves? Did they ever talk about what it would be like if one of their children got sick and how they would deal with that news? For better or worse; through sickness and health.
How did Dad's cancer change the dynamic of their relationship?

April second will forever be etched in my memory as it's the day Tim confessed to me about the sin he had been struggling with in his life. It's a day that changed the course of our marriage and family. It's the day our marriage was given meaning and purpose. Recently, Tim cleaned out his closet donating the exact fleece he wore the night he confessed. It instantly placed me on our leather couch in the living room. I can remember the exact clothes we wore, the dinner I was cooking in the Wok and what the weather was like that evening. How was that a part of my life and purpose God had for me? How did that fit in with my parents marriage and sisters health? Why do some people have trials and others seem to have none?
How is there enough space in our memories to place these details?

It's sad knowing too many people have no faith to fall back on when these question come up and life changing diagnoses fall into their laps. I struggle to answer the whys when honestly we don't need to know the why, but rather how will you handle what's given to you. Why do some people have such loss and torment in their lives and others seems to dance daily in fields of daisies and roses?

It's been a time of reflection these past few weeks especially as I sift through my sisters journals. I find resolve reading through them. I find her faith bouncing off the pages even though they are riddled with seeds of deep rooted depression and anxiety. I talk with other women who have been through betrayal and hear hope, restoration and individual hearts growing stronger in their vertical relationship with Jesus.

Last weekend Myriam and I had to drive to Burlington for a few things and listened to Traci's service both there and back. I knew it would wreck me, but Myriam was asking about Auntie. We chose for her not to be at the service that day so this presented to be a good time to listen to the service together. I explained what was happening and then she tells me to be quiet because she wanted to sing. What I saw next was Myriam, hands folded praying in her seat as the worship began to play. When I asked her what she was doing she rather calmly stated, "You said if we want to talk to Jesus we pray. I wanted to talk to Auntie so I'm praying because she's with Jesus." 

A moment of reflection through a child's eye.
This lasted for two entire songs. When we made it to our first destination, we both wept together listening to Daddy and Auntie Becky sing. This was Myriam's time to celebrate Auntie, but also a reminder that she's not here with us and we miss her greatly. 

As a mom, it's hard to know if we're allowing our kids to grieve properly. I don't question anything we have done, but I pray we're giving them the right opportunities to remember.
Yesterday the kids and I brought flowers to the cemetery. It was the kids' first time visiting the grave. A physical place to remember the person who meant the world to many of us.

And then Good Friday. 

That brings me to the cross.
Pondering the cross brings me great sorrow and joy. Sadness for the why and joy for the triumph.

Mary shared in this grief we have been navigating over the past two months. She understands a mothers heart as you watch your child take their last breath. She feels the pain of seeing your child suffer. 

Regardless of knowing the purpose for her Son's life; the weight He carried for all our sins, she was human and had the same emotions we struggle with today.
I often ask why my mother was chosen to watch her child suffer; an emotion I never prepared myself to experience. 

I think about what it was like for Jesus to look down at His mother from a child's perspective. Set aside the fact that He's Jesus, knows all things and is King of all Nations...He had a mother. I wonder if it changed things? What did Traci think as she heard the words our Mom spoke to her in those last twelve hours? If she had the strength to speak, what would she have said? Did she feel betrayed when we told her to go, when Mom repeatedly said, "Honey, you can let go. It's okay. Stop fighting." Was her spirit already two feet into Heaven that she didn't even hear our pleas and feel our emotions over the worship from the angels?
Jesus knew His path. He knew the purpose in His death.
Traci knew her diagnoses. She was told she was dying. Her faith had no doubt where she was going.
My parents promised each other 'till death due us part' and have been wading through extremely challenging diagnoses over half of their marriage. Never did they know the outcome, but always trusting that through treatment and prayer diseases would be healed.
I still stand in awe that Tim and I are more united than when we said our 'I do's' and can only testify that it's by the grace of God and our faith, that we have overcome a potential devastating confession.
I found myself with bipolar tears last night as our Good Friday service came to conclusion. Tears of anguish contemplating what Jesus did for me and tears of mourning for the sweet sister I miss terribly.
We ended by singing a classic hymn and never before has it hit me like it did last night...

What can wash away my sin? 
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus. 

Oh! Precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

This is all my hope and peace, 
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
This is all my righteousness,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Now by this I'll overcome-
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
Now by this I'll reach my home-
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

By the time we were done singing there were tears of joy for what is to come.
For two months, I have been tossing around these four words and find myself in deep conversation with God asking why, how, when and finally reaching the point where tears become silent questions. I've scoured the pages of my sisters journals, read pages of notes from Bible studies and sat with the Bible open begging for a simple answer to the grief I wake up to in the morning. I look over years of pictures and repeat conversations in my head.
The only conclusion I come up with, the only words that seems to settle all my lingering questions and put pause into my thoughts are these...
THY WILL BE DONE.

It was and is God's will that Jesus died on the cross because now, more than ever, does it bring purpose to our story; to your story.
Traci is white as snow; she has overcome and her victory came through the cross. It's not our place to understand God's will and timing, but it's through our obedience that we trust in His plan.
She has reached her home.
We celebrate my parents marriage because of the hope and peace God
has given them through difficult situations.
Tim and I have overcome and our marriage is what it is today only by the blood of Jesus.
It's not God's will for people to choose sin; for health to derail us, but it's His will that we trust and follow because He trusted and followed in God's will for His life.

Tomorrow we wake up and celebrate an empty tomb.
We celebrate because in His perfect will, for our imperfect and broken lives,
He gives us reason to rejoice and be joyful.
It still hurts, the questions will still find me.
But I know that in the end it was God's will for Traci to find life through her cancer and her journey home to be quicker then the rest of ours.
It was through obedience that my husband and I are deeply in love.
It is God's will that we have a second chance and that should be good enough reason to celebrate.

He Is Risen Indeed.
Can't even fantasize what Easter is like for you this year sister.