Thanks for Coming!

For many years when the kids were young, I served as director of a local preschool. It was a small school and while I had a great staff and a loyal army of amazing parent volunteers, I sometimes needed to dedicate additional hours in the school building for special events. For many of these occasions, my children got dragged along were my loyal companions for set up, clean up and everything in between.

When Jay was around 12, the kids and I spent an afternoon all together at the school getting ready for one of the preschool’s signature events, the International Potluck Supper. Jay was especially bored and bugged me to find something for him to do. I wasn’t in a position to entertain him. Consumed with the rush of last minute preparations, I had plenty already to get done myself. “I’m sure you can find something, Buddy.” I encouraged him, “Be creative.”

God's Delight

In this tiny little grief book sent to me by a friend following Jay’s death, I discovered some scripture that helped me so much. The verses were included to offer comfort to me, the bereaved reader:

He reached down from on high

               and took hold of me;

      he drew me out of deep waters.

He rescued me from my powerful enemy,

      from my foes, who were too strong for me.

They confronted me in the day of my disaster,

      but the Lord was my support.

He brought me into a spacious place;

      he rescued me because he delighted in me.

(Psalm 18:16-19)

The book’s author, H. Norman Wright, explains how I can find solace from my sorrow in this passage. He implores me to comprehend the depths of God’s love for me. “Do you hear how God regards you? He not only loves you; he delights in you.”

Smiles, Everyone, Smiles

When we think of Depression, we imagine someone who is sad and withdrawn for a noticeable period of time (more than two weeks, I’ve heard it said.) In Severe Depression, we’re told, symptoms worsen and are more noticeable -- loss of appetite, irregular sleep patterns, failing grades, acting out in the form of argumentative and/or erratic behavior and even alcohol and drug abuse.

But what if someone is engaging and witty, contributes in class, gets to work on time, can be counted on to get things done, and goofs around lightheartedly with friends in his down time? Can he be depressed?

Walking the Mile

I’ve tried desperately to walk in Jay’s shoes, to understand how he got to the point of taking his own life. I feel like if I could put myself in the place of feeling what he felt, that would help make some sense of what, to me, is unimaginable. I keep going over the last months of his life. The time we shared together was positive, joyous, often lighthearted.

Was it not?

Did we miss something?

Jay's Bio

(I know this is long, but please indulge me! My posts won't nearly be this long in the future. This is adapted from my remarks at Jay's funeral with additions from the stories we heard from those who knew him and loved him and took the time to share.)

Way back in 1997, Tim and I received fantastic news: after four years of marriage, we were expecting our first child. In July of that year, we eagerly arrived at our 20-week sonogram looking for 10 fingers and 10 toes, and, if possible, the baby’s gender. “It’s a boy!” we heard, but the technician was hardly excited.  She seemed, in fact, quite concerned.

And the winner is...

First order of business, before I begin blogging in earnest: the title. Now These Remain, modified slightly from its original submission, received from Daniel Eagan, Director of Student Ministries at Riverside Church. 

Daniel remarked that one line in my intro (“all the pieces of my former life remain save for one…”) made him think of 1 Corinthians 13:13.

 “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.  But the greatest of these is love.”

I like the duality of it. It hits on not only what we’ve had to reconcile in the weeks and months since Jay’s death but also what’s sustained us in the wake of this unimaginable loss.  

Now these remain.

Where once we were a family of five, now we are four.

Now these remain.

Faith, Hope and Love are the virtues we’ve learned we must cling to if we are going to have any shot at restoring joy in our lives going forward. 

Incorporating other popular suggestions, the complete title will look like this:

Now These Remain

One family’s journey from broken to beautiful through faith, hope and love

Thanks to everyone who offered input. I see already some potential blog posts in many of your ideas. Thanks for the inspiration. And thanks for your support of our family, for the love you've showered on us and, especially, for always remembering Jay.