Grief, One Year Later

It has been a year since our family experienced a life-changing loss. My 28 year old daughter, Chasity, died from a heroin overdose on January 28, 2017. The opioid epidemic brought with it this reoccurring nightmare for tens of thousands of families in our country. Over 42,000 Americans died from drug overdose in 2016. The official numbers for last year are not available yet, but everyone knows they are not trending down. This is tragic, heart wrenching and sickening.

My daughter's death, as well as her struggle with drug addiction, has given me a different lens through which I can view others. My propensity to criticize and evaluate is being nudged out of the way by compassion. The "log in my eye" is not completely gone, but I feel differently about the speck in your eye. I have addictions too, ones that are not likely to cause my sudden death, but still they reveal my desperate need to rest in the love and grace of God. Perhaps more honesty about this sort of thing would be helpful in our culture, in our congregations. I believe many American churches have a long way to go before drug addicts feel safe entering the building without condescending glances. Will they hear a gospel shared with authentic love, untainted by judgement? I hope my church is moving in that direction.

One year removed from the shock and pain of overdose death in my immediate family, I'm not completely sure how I'm supposed to be feeling, what I'm supposed to be doing. Before you jump to conclusions (like I often do), let me clarify. I am aware that there is no "right" way to grieve. But I still can't help but sense that I've missed something and I should be ______ (fill in the blank). A wise and dear friend told me it is never helpful to "should" on yourself or others. Still, I'm wondering about this difficult process. It is a process.

After the death of a loved one I have heard others say, "I think about them every day." Well, the plain truth is, some days pass and I don't think about Chasity. I want to be okay with that. The loss doesn't change because it is not front and center in my thinking. My love for her is not diminished. Day by day, moment by moment I have been living my life for the past year, in the shadow that has been cast by her death. I have laughed. I have cried. I have struggled. I have trusted. I have loved. I have been angry. I have been sad. I have been ashamed. I have talked. I have been silent. I have preached. I have whined. I am human. Life does indeed go on, until it doesn't.

The death of my oldest daughter has caused me to look at my other two daughters differently. I occasionally feel fearful around the thought that I will lose them too. I'm not sure they realize, but I have tried to hug them more. I suspect that many parents have a fear of losing a child. Prior to Chasity's death I also had that fear, but it was more theoretical. Experiencing reality has a way of raising awareness and bringing truth into perspective.

This life is short. We will experience loss. There is not really a way to fully prepare for walking that particular road. The presence of trusted friends and family have aided me. My faith and hope in Christ has been extremely helpful. But with humanity comes a frailty that impacts even God-given faith. Although mixed with fear and doubt at times, my faith is still present and powerful. We must live with this delicate tension, embracing our humanity as well as the Divine.

I can not go back. I can not undo or unsay anything. I have no idea what will come across my path tomorrow. I only have this moment, to live and love and also at times to grieve. Although during the last year our family has experienced pain and loss, there is much for which I am thankful. It is a very helpful thing to consider grief, and at the same time, gratitude. That is a place where I am certain we will also discover the boundless reservoir of God's grace.

[For those interested, I wrote about these circumstances and their impact last year here and here.]

Gentle on My Mind

Musician and singer Glen Campbell died this week. He had been living with Alzheimer's disease for the last several years. I watched with great interest, and sorrow, the Netflix documentary about his farewell tour. Campbell spent about a year on the road doing concerts after he announced his diagnosis. Although his mind was fading, his musical talent still showed flashes of brilliance. The human brain is an amazing creation of God.

Alzheimer's and other forms of dementia are perhaps the most heart wrenching ailments that I have witnessed.  Nearly everyone I know has been touched by dementia in some form. It is this sort of pain that remind us of the frailty of this life. There is often a tremendous sense of powerlessness that grips the family members of those struggling with Alzheimer's and dementia.

As we witness this level of suffering and brokenness, in the depths of the human heart there is something that cries out, "This is not the way it is supposed to be!" Indeed, this is not how thing were in the garden of Eden. However, it was the sin and rebellion of mankind that started the mess. We have been going our own way ever since. What we experience today, the pain and struggle, is the fallout. Thankfully, God has graciously provided a way for the brokenness to be restored through Jesus. This is the good news of the gospel.

Still, even for the followers of Jesus, there is heartache and turmoil. Watching someone deal with dementia is a vivid reminder. One of the last recordings that Glen Campbell made, I'm Not Gonna Miss You, seems like a haunting and honest statement about this struggle. Take a few minutes to enjoy his musical gift, here.

Thankfully, because of Christ, there is eternal hope and peace that transcends this brief and broken life.

Lessons From the Broken Road

I started along a broken and bumpy road on January 28. Frankly, I knew this road was on the horizon but never wanted to travel there. It came with a phone call. The voice was calm but the words came like an avalanche, throwing me into a state of shock and despair. My oldest daughter was dead. Her struggle with drug addiction, that had robbed her of so much, had taken her life.The news took my breath away.

There is not enough space here to share everything. But this will be an attempt to share a few things that have been prominent, things I have become aware of, lessons I am learning about myself, about life and loss.

Not Words, but Presence
It has been interesting to talk with friends and family and to hear how we express ourselves when death comes. Words fail. Some try to force words, attempting to manufacture something that will fix the mess or aid the one hurting. Sometimes there are religious platitudes. These words are well intended I know. They rarely help. What is helpful is simply being present. The strength and embrace of another individual, made in the image of God, reflecting His power and love. Talking is fine and I've done much of that too. But the strongest support has come from presence.  I'm a pastor and so I've been on the other side of death. I realize more than ever that being willing to just be with others in their pain is enough. God can use this greatly.

Love is Active and Varied
What our family experienced from dozens, perhaps hundreds of people, was nothing short of remarkable. I lost track of the number of texts, calls, emails, Facebook messages and hugs...big, wonderful hugs joined with tears.  There was food, from unexpected places. Cards filled with heartfelt words of kindness. We received beautiful flowers and plants that will continue to remind us of this outpouring of human compassion. Jesus explained that the "greatest commandment" is to love God completely and to love others selflessly. I've seen that kind of love in action. Honestly, it is that sort of others-centered love that is missing from many parts of the American experience, even in churches. If Christians hope to see our world transformed it will begin with an active, purposeful love. It is the gospel in action and it is has power. I'm not saying the gospel itself is not vitally important. However, authentic love provides the foundation for the gospel to be received. Moreover, it is through loving one another that we demonstrate that we truly are followers of Jesus. At least, that's what He said.

God Works in the Mess
Space on this page limits my ability to fully explain how we have witnessed God at work. Pieces fell into place so that we could travel unhindered to be with family at just the right time. Resources came together from a variety of people to provide for unexpected expenses. Hundreds of people came to the visitation and many stayed 2 hours until the memorial service started. Many who stayed would not likely be compelled to attend a regular church service. They heard the hope-filled message of forgiveness and grace found in Christ. Dozens more who could not attend have watched the service on video. I was enabled by God to stand and preach, from a place of strength and love, to share my heart as well as the gospel. Only eternity will tell of the impact of these events. It was clear to me that God was indeed guiding every aspect of these events.

Addiction is All Around Us
I've seen the ugly face of drug and alcohol addiction. Many of us have. Its sad and often painfully obvious. We can not be silent about these things. Bringing them into the light and under the influence of the gospel is where healing and transformation will take place. Christians must be willing to embrace those who are struggling with addiction with compassion and not condemnation. However, we must also recognize that addiction is all around us and within each and every one of us. Addiction is the desire of our hearts to cling to, rely on, flee to, find satisfaction in anything other than God. Sadly many of us have addictions that are not viewed as ugly and are even encouraged. Addiction can take the form of approval seeking, perfectionism, people pleasing, peace making, achievement and the list goes on. When we embrace these things as a means to satisfaction, affirmation and ultimate joy, they are just like drugs. We are a broken people, all of us. Some are unaware, while others are fighting to keep these things in the dark. It is in the light of God's grace, within safe and loving community, that we will find freedom from all of our addictions. [You can find good and helpful insights about this here.]

Grief is Odd and Unpredictable
In the back of my mind I realize that grief is a process that takes time.  I will not get past this in two weeks. However, I want it to be over and done, neat and tidy. That's not how it works. Even though we all know about it, death takes us by surprise when it comes to our door. There is no "right way" to navigate this road. My experience is unique to me. But I am not alone. There is great comfort and strength in having others supporting me on this journey. I don't know exactly where this road will lead me. But I am confident that God doesn't waste anything. He is with me and He is for me. He is using this hard and painful experience to shape me.

If it were up to me, I would choose a different way. But I'm not God. I'm not in control. So I will trust Him to guide my steps as He continues to teach me.

UPDATE: An expanded version of this post appeared on The Gospel Coalition, here.
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It Is Not Death to Die

Today I preached the funeral for a man I first met about six years ago.  He lived a mile from our church and only visited 2 or 3 times.  We had developed a friendship.

A few weeks back I sat with a church member in a hospital room as their spouse passed from this life.  It had been a long and difficult road. 

A week ago tragedy struck our nation and many were injured and several lost their lives.

Week by week our prayer list is full of those who are grieving and suffering.  Death is all around us.

As the Apostle Paul sat in Roman custody he wrote, "For to me to live is Christ and to die is gain."  The longer I walk this earthly road the more I feel and see the effects of sin and the fall.  That is why I am so thankful for the mercy and grace of God.

While I love my family and much about my life, I know that in entering glory and the presence of Christ there is so much to "gain."  That is why the words of this song are so poignant for the follower of Jesus.

It Is Not Death to Die (Henri Malan/Bob Kauflin)


It is not death to die
To leave this weary road
And join the saints who dwell on high
Who’ve found their home with God
It is not death to close
The eyes long dimmed by tears
And wake in joy before Your throne
Delivered from our fears

O Jesus, conquering the grave
Your precious blood has power to save
Those who trust in You
Will in Your mercy find
That it is not death to die

It is not death to fling
Aside this earthly dust
And rise with strong and noble wing
To live among the just
It is not death to hear
The key unlock the door
That sets us free from mortal years
To praise You evermore

© 2008 Integrity’s Praise! Music/Sovereign Grace Praise

Life is Indeed a Vapor

Yesterday, during my regular visit to the nursing home, I had a great conversation with the oldest resident. Ms. Brooks is proud to tell everyone that she is approaching her 101st birthday. Wow, can you imagine? She is also quick to give glory to God and share her trust in Him as the only source of strength and joy.

I couldn't help but think of her when I read the recent post over at The Pulpit & the Pew. I commend this post for its gospel-centered perspective on life and death.

While we cling to this life with all its trappings, we must be honest with ourselves. Life is indeed a vapor. When this brief journey is completed a new one will begin. For those who are in Christ, that journey will take us into the very presence of our Creator. This new life will be incomparable to even what we think of as wonderful on this earth. All of this eternal glory comes to us as an extension of God's grace, not based on worldly accomplishments or well-practiced religion.

Even if we live to be 100, amass enormous wealth, and experience celebrity-type fame, all of that will pass away in an instant. It is a terribly humbling thought. I trust that you can echo the words of William Cowper: "Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save, when this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave."

Christ on Display

You may have read last week that Dr. John Piper's granddaughter Felicity was stillborn. She was full term. My heart broke as I read some of the details of this situation.

This morning I read a post on Piper's blog that contained his comments at the funeral service. Below I have included two sections that, for me, were the most captivating.

Here are the words he shared with the baby's mother:

"For her entire life she depended on you more than anyone. You fed her, you cleansed her, you supported her, you protected her, you knew her better than anyone. The grace that God has given you to love her greatly and let her go is amazing. Christ is on display in your life."

Piper's father died a few months back. Here are his closing thoughts on what may have transpired in heaven:

"I believe Felicity and her great grandfather met each other early Sunday morning in the presence of Christ. And my father said, perhaps, “Hello, Felicity. I’m your great grandfather Piper. Come, there is somebody I want you to meet. His name is Jesus. He’s the reason you’re here. You don’t need to be afraid. Your Savior has led you all the way. And Jesus does all things well."

I find it difficult to comprehend the pain associated with such a loss. However, I know the God of all comforts. Certainly a world watches as Christ-followers grieve at a time like this. What a blessing when Christ Jesus is on display in the lives of His people.