More Than Mine

    Writing is my coping mechanism and the holidays have brought a cornucopia of memories to cope with. I was trying to block them so I would not feel so sad. But the Lord has told me that by doing so I am forgoing the pleasure of the memory and feeling only the pain. So I will try to let them come--baby Tracy snuggled against my neck, my 4 year old last-child-at-home buddy, and so many others. The Lord reminds me those memories are mine to keep. They are a gift He is trying to give me. 

 

More Than Mine 

Child of mine,

son, grown man,

whose life was always

in God's hands,

your time of death

was His to plan.

 

Mine to love,

but not to keep,

you're safe with Christ,

though your body sleeps,

yet you are more 

alive than me.

  

And when I reach

my ordained time,

I'll seek your touch,

but first I'll find 

pierced hands that loved you

more than mine.

Twilight with Tracy

    On the drive home from a day trip to Missoula, after being with Reed's sister's family, whose loss is so much newer than my own, my thoughts were swirling as I looked out the window at the night sky. Just then God brought to mind the memory of when Tracy and I hitched a ride on a Semitool jet to Phoenix.

    Trace was 14. We must have been doing home school by then or he wouldn't have been able to come with me that January. I redeemed our Marriott points for a hotel room that was only a couple blocks from where the pilot was staying. We weren't going to be there long enough to need a rental car, so that location would make it convenient for him to pick us up when it was time to return to Montana. Tracy brought his skateboard to do tricks in some available parking lot. It was over 60 degrees there and I remember the two of us walking in the bright blue twilight to a Red Lobster near our hotel. There were date palms lining the street and dates lying on the sidewalk. At Red Lobster, our waiter approached from behind Tracy, who had long hair at the time. He asked what we ladies would like tonight before he saw Tracy's face and realized his mistake. I smiled, not being fan of his long, unkempt hair. 

    I don't remember what we ate. That was not important to the atmosphere I was trying to capture. There are times I deliberately try to impress in my mind as if I was making a video. I call them memorized moments--Bavarian themed Leavenworth, WA with Christmas lights and music playing, three year old Brie at Snappy's fish pond, the warm sand and the sound of the ocean on our last trip to Gleneden beach, and others. After we got back to the hotel, I watched Tracy swim in the much-too-cold-for-me outdoor pool. It is a vivid memory, despite the two decades that have passed since then. God's timely gift to steady my thoughts. A treasured time kept safe for me by the One who keeps my treasured son. We should savor our special blue twilights, for we do not know when our nights may come.

Because of Christ

Because of Christ

 

We once were enemies--God and I.

Though, I kind of liked knowing he was around

in case I needed him to handle

something I could not manage on my own.

In that case, I might ask him.

But I worried he might ask 

something of me in return.

And that would not do.

I had plans for my life

and strength of my own to carry them through.

Or so I thought.

And now we are friends--God and I

sitting at the same table.

Not that I did anything to earn an invitation,

He invited me, must have been a hundred times.

Until, out of excuses, I finally came.

His strength, I found, was not so much

in those grand interventions I planned to ask for,

but in the small, daily graces

I hadn't even noticed 

until we changed from enemies to friends.

Because of Christ.

 

What I Hope to Say

     One of our Griefshare exercises last week was to write a non-mailed letter to the person you are angry at about the death of your loved one. I cannot be too angry at the drug dealer without becoming more angry at Tracy, but this expresses what I hope I might say as a victim impact statement when, and if, his case ever goes to court. I will not use his name lest it would in any way jeopardize the case. 

 Drug Dealer: 

    I believe two things that seem contradictory by human standards. The first is that my son Tracy died because it was his God appointed time. The Bible teaches that. Ps. 139:16 says, “Your eyes saw my unformed body, all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” The second is that Tracy died because you sold him, and he took, fentanyl poisoned drugs. The fact that God appointed March 22^, 2022 as the day my son would die, does not absolve you of your guilt for selling him the drugs that killed him. There had  been enough fentanyl overdose deaths already that Tracy should have known not to take them. Until then, he had been off drugs for six years. And you, who make a living selling drugs, should have known about the fentanyl problem. 

    As someone whom Christ has forgiven, I feel compelled to forgive you. I want you to pay the legal penalty for causing my son’s death, but I also want you to know Christ’s forgiveness. Otherwise, you will bear the guilt of killing Tracy for all eternity. I don’t think he would want that for you. Trace was very understanding of human frailty. The other contradictory thing is that God’s forgiveness does not remove the legal consequences of our actions. I want you to pay for what you have done and I want you locked away where you can’t bring this agony to another family like ours. 

    Tracy was six weeks from graduating from aircraft mechanic school. He had already earned one of his certifications. For 18 months he had been a top student in his class while working more than full-time as an auto mechanic to support himself. He was already a gifted mechanic and was planning to become a pilot as well. He had many friends, a family who loved him, and a good future ahead of him. God’s plans for him were different from ours, and better, but I want you to know something about the man whose life you took. 

   Until recently, I didn't even know how to spell your name. I don’t know you at all. I’m sure you have friends and family who love you too, and I’m sure they are suffering also because of this. That’s what sin does. It hurts people who don’t deserve it. But God forgives people who don’t deserve it, and I want that for you, in spite of what you did to my son, because of what God's Son did for me.

The Avenger of Blood

    Long before there was a wild west there was murderous middle east. Killing was invented millenia before the court system. Back then, the death penalty was carried out in house. The family's appointed avenger of blood executed the offender. Apparently that was the reason Cain was so afraid of receiving vengeance for Abel's death. After all, everyone alive back then was family, they would all take Abel's death personally. We know the avenger system was still in place when Israel moved into the promised land because God commanded them to designate cities of refuge. These were not like our self-proclaimed refuge cities that exempt themselves from immigration, and other, laws. Israel's cities of refuge were to protect those who unintentionally killed someone from the avenger of blood. If the city judges determined the death was accidental, the offender was safe as long as he remained in the city. He was fair game, however, if he decided to leave the refuge.

     The reason I am thinking about this is because our son was killed by a lethal dose of fentanyl laced drugs. It goes without saying that Tracy should not have used the drugs. He had been off drugs for six years, alcohol was the temptation that kept coming back. But a dealer sold him the drugs that took his life and that is some form of murder. Tracy already paid the price for his mistake. But the man our daughter worked so diligently to identify for law enforcement by hacking her brother's phone, to the best of our knowledge, has not even been arrested. We learned in Griefshare that such things usually take two to three years. So if the avenger of blood option ever became available, Tracy's dad would be happy to carry out sentence.

     A father recognizes from the time he holds his newborn in his arms, that he is responsible to protect his child. That protectiveness does not go away when his children are grown. I remember the shock I felt as a new mom when I realized I was not only willing to die to protect my baby, I was willing to kill to protect her. Mothers are protective too, but men and women express this differently. When Reed first told me about his desire for vengeance, I was a little shocked. But when he has said this to other men, none of them have raised an eyebrow. It seems perfectly normal to them. The desire for justice, the urge to protect, are hard wired into most men. 

    Years ago when I worked as a CNA at the hospital, I took care of a man who was the most ordinary, unassuming person you could imagine. He told me that the pedophile who abused his three year old granddaughter could not be prosecuted because children under age four were not old enough to testify in court in Montana. That is why this known pedophile deliberately targeted such young children. His granddaughter became fearful of all men, including her grandfather. The man told me openly and unashamedly that if he ever caught the pedophile alone, and it sounded like he searched regularly, he would shoot him. The punishment sounded fitting, it just did not seem to fit the mild mannered man before me.

    Since we do not live in Helena, know what the dealer looks like, or even his last name, we will have to wait for the legal system to deal with him. And if earthly justice is not realized, God will judge him. I comfort myself in this period of waiting by remembering the ancient adage, "The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding fine." The Lord is the ultimate avenger of blood.

    

See To It

     I began this blog on March 22, the day Tracy died. Not surprisingly, I have had other priorities since then, but I wanted to get back to this topic because it is so common in our current Christian media. In March we were studying Matthew 24 in BSF. The disciples had asked Jesus what would be the sign of his coming and of the end of the age. He starts by talking about false Messiahs and wars, but that is just the appetizer, the entree, sides and dessert are progressively more terrifying in this dual fulfillment prophecy. But in the way God has of making me notice verses that must have been in scripture all along, this time through I keyed in to verse 6, ". . .but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come." I found it interesting that amidst prophecy that makes modern doomscrolling look like the Sunday comics, our Savior says, "see to it that you are not alarmed." He is so out of touch with our current culture. 

    Panic pays. People who are not alarmed do not give money to programs that search world news, internet rumors, and arcane knowledge to provide fresh material to be alarmed about. People at peace do not pay to hear guest speakers divulge the latest list of things to stress about. These influencers seem to believe that if they pile the world's woes into a high enough stack, Jesus will look down from heaven, see our tower of terror, realize the planet has gotten out of control, and come back to Earth. Acting not as a sovereign Savior, but as a parent threatening, don't make me come down there. We are attempting to build a reverse Tower of Babel that Christ can use as a stairway to earth. There are a number of problems with this tower of trouble theory. 

Jesus is not coming back because:

• The world is out of control.  He knows He is in control.
• We have cut and pasted prophecy to fit current events.  God wants us to apply His Word, not edit it.
  
• We do not want to face upcoming difficult situations or death.  Those are the materials He uses to build our faith, character, and testimony as Christians.
• Morals are lax and the government is corrupt.  He could have looped right back to Rome for those reasons.
• American Christians are being persecuted.  He told all believers to expect persecution. U.S. believers are neither exempt from, nor unworthy of, the privilege of suffering for Christ.
• Ungodly American culture. The U.S. is not prophetically significant. Jesus' ETA is about fulfilling prophesies regarding the restoration of Israel and the fullness of Gentile salvation.
• Secret conspiracies and worldly agendas.  Jesus has unlimited access to our secrets and laughs at humanistic agendas.

     Rather than considering it a Christian duty to spread speculation and alarm, it is, in view of Mt. 24:6, disobedience to a command of the Lord. If our testimony to unbelievers is that we are not quite sure God is in control and we radiate worry instead of peace, we have the power to change where our eyes are focused. See to it.

 

The Chair Across From Mine

The Chair Across From Mine

 

 His chair across from mine

at the holiday table

will not be empty.

Someone will take his place,

though only in that respect.

Even the Manufacturer does not offer 

identical replacements. 

My youngest son was, is,

though much like his dad,

uniquely himself.

 

 On this new season

of firsts, of loss,

 despite the loving family

that will come together

to celebrate the blessings

uniquely our own,

and the God who gave them,

we will be as full and empty

at our holiday table

as the chair across from mine.

 

 

   After sharing my concerns about not seeing Tracy in his usual place across the table at our holiday dinners, our Griefshare group had some good suggestions--sit in a different chair/ask someone specific to sit there, tell them why/sit in Tracy's chair myself. So simple. So practical. So far from my own thoughts. So glad I brought it up with people who understand.

 

The Ghosts of Christmas

     For many years my anticipation of the holidays was shadowed by the Ghost of Christmas Past. Not the memories themselves, but the disembodied memories of feelings from Christmas seasons shadowed by my mom's schizophrenia. As early as September, I would start becoming restless, as if something beyond my sight was stalking me. On the positive side, I exercised often. Often, when I should have been sleeping. Eventually, the Ghost arrived later and later in the holiday season. And a couple years after Mom died, it did not come at all.

     Now I am being visited by the Ghost of Christmas Future, the specter of holidays yet to come without Tracy. At least, I think that is why I am having trouble sleeping. Insomnia does not come with an explanatory note. I am not thinking of anything in particular because I have no frame of reference for a holiday dinner table without Tracy sitting across from me. Or opening gifts without him stationed in the recliner, pretending to ignore his nieces. On a positive note, I am getting more exercise. Unfortunately, it too, is in the middle of the night. But the ghost of energy past stopped visiting me long ago, so my wee hours workout is mostly stretching.

     Perhaps, in time, this specter will also fade away, or at least visit me after I've had a full night of sleep. The Christmases yet to come will leave beautiful new memories, the old memories will be welcome, the feelings warm, instead of sad. God's grace will gently help me face all the Ghosts of Christmas.