I'm Jealous of Stephanie

Did the title get your attention?  I am somewhat jealous of Stephanie because she already knows what's next.  In other words she knows something that I don't know, and she can't share it with me. 

During our marriage we shared everything.  At the end of the day we would talk about what happened during the day: the interactions we had or the new thoughts or insights we gained.  In the last few months while I was working from home, we had an ongoing dialogue.  That sharing is what I miss the most now that she is gone.  I often catch myself thinking, "I can't wait to tell Steph _____ ".  In fact, as strange as it sounds, during the reception following her memorial service, I caught myself thinking:  "I can't wait to tell Steph who I saw or what I learned."   Besides being husband and wife, we were also best friends, so we talked about everything.   I've tried to keep the communication going, using a journal that's by my bed.

 We occasionally finished each other's sentences in a dialogue that might sound like this:    Steph:  "Did you get the _____ ?"  Jim: "No I thought when you were going to get it at  _____ "   Steph: "I decided not to go, so would you mind going to _____?  Jim:  "OK, what flavor would you like?"   Each of those blanks had words in them in our minds which went without saying.  Folks who have been married for a period of time can relate I'm sure.

Steph even indulged my love of sports.  I can remember one time when I was watching a basketball game on TV, and she was sitting beside me on the couch.  Out of nowhere she asked:  "Isn't that a 3 second violation?"  I was in awe, and on her next birthday I found a card that praised her for her "adequate sports knowledge."  We shared everything.

So when I think of her now, I think of the fact that she knows what's next.  1 Corinthians 13:12 says:  For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.  So while I'm here seeing a reflection, she is seeing Jesus face to face.  And while I am here knowing in part, she knows fully and is fully known.  My best friend knows what's next, but she can't tell me about it.   So do you see why I'm a little jealous.  Maybe you're a little jealous now as well. 

Stephanie's Choice

On the afternoon of July 24, Stephanie and I had a candid conversation with our home hemo dialysis nurse, a woman who had become our friend and trusted adviser. Stephanie had been suffering with internal bleeding that was first detected in December 2014.  Despite numerous efforts to resolve this problem, including multiple endoscopies and transfusions, things were not getting better but worse.

Our nurse sat with us and lovingly helped us to think through our situation.  As we considered our options, the decision became clear.  Stephanie did not have the will or energy to continue to pursue a resolution to this problem.  That meant that eventually her hemoglobin would get so low that she would not be able to sustain life any longer.   We cried, we prayed, and we surrendered Stephanie's life to the Lord.

Later that day, Stephanie began to hemorrhage.  I called 911 and the ambulance came and rushed her to Waterbury Hospital.  Her hemoglobin was plummeting, and the hemorrhaging was continuing.  The doctor told me that he thought she should have a transfusion.  I told him that he needed to ask her, and he did.  When he asked her if she wanted a transfusion, she simply replied, "No".  In saying that word she took control over her life and made a choice.  She knew that meant that she would not live much longer.  How could she say that when our instinct as human beings is to cling to life with all that we have?  She made her choice.  She said "No". 

In the midst of the adrenaline rush that is typical of the early stages of an emergency room visit, I didn't process what it took for her to say "no", but in looking back I realize how brave she was because she made her own choice and chose to peacefully enter into the unknown.  Watching her die was the most surreal experience I've ever had.  Life, what little life that was left, was leaving her ravaged body.   I wonder what was in her mind in those last hours.  Perhaps she thought of the words from Revelation 21:4: ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”  

She was entering peacefully into the unknown, but she knew that Jesus was waiting for her.  Maybe the words that Jesus uttered on the cross were in her mind: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”   (Luke 23:46).  These words come from Psalm 31 and were likely a bed time prayer for little Jewish children. 

She was entering peacefully into the unknown because she knew that she was done.  Paul described our bodies as like tents (2 Corinthians 5).  Having tried and failed as a camper, I can attest that I prefer the comfort and convenience of my home to a tent.  Tents wear out, and on July 25, Stephanie's tent wore out, but although her tent was done, her life was just beginning.  Later in that passage Paul said: "What is mortal is swallowed up by life." So while her earthly tent was failing, what made her Stephanie was being swallowed up by life.  At times death has been portrayed as a devouring monster, but Paul said that life swallows the mortal.

 Ultimately it was her choice that astounded me.  She was worn out and exhausted and incredibly brave and assured of what was in store for her.  She made her choice - bravely, peacefully, submissively.  “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”    

She's Not Coming Back

One night in the weeks following Stephanie's death, I awoke with that thought.  She is not coming back.   You might say, of course she's not coming back.  But in 2014 when her health really started a downward spiral, she always came back.  In April she had to go to a rehabilitation center in Waterbury for a two month stint while they tried to rehab the injury to her foot that she sustained when she fell on Easter night.  After many complications, she came back home - to a home fully equipped with medical equipment. 

 The following week she had to be admitted to the hospital for complications from her dialysis treatment, but she came back.  Then in August she fell and broke both of her ankles - leading to a month of back and forths between the hospital and a rehabilitation facility in Southbury.  But again, she came back.  Then in early June of 2015 she had to go to the hospital again for what they thought was a mild stroke, but once more, she came back.  But on July 24 she went to the hospital, and she didn't come back.  A couple of weeks later, I woke up with that sad thought.  This time, she isn't coming back. 

In the book of 2 Samuel chapter eleven, the unfortunate narrative of David's adultery with Bathsheba and the subsequent murder of her husband is recorded.  Because God was displeased with this, the child conceived from their union became ill and died.  While the child was ill, David was desperate for God to intervene.  He fasted and laid on the ground before God.  Finally the child died, and David's response astounded his servants.  He got cleaned up and ate a meal.  David then shared his reasons: “While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept. I thought, ‘Who knows? The Lord may be gracious to me and let the child live.’  But now that he is dead, why should I go on fasting? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me.”  (2 Samuel 12:22-23)   That last line is my focus.  I will go to him, but he will not return to me.  I personalize it to be -  "I will go to her, but she will not return to me.”

I can say this because although Stephanie isn't coming back, Jesus is coming back.

He promised that when he said,  "If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am."  (John 14:3)

Even though she came back many times, this time Stephanie is not coming back, but Jesus is and because of that I know I will see her again. I will go to her, but she will not return to me.”

My Journey by Pastor Welty

When we used to travel as a family, my father would go to AAA and get a "triptik"  - a spiral bound map that was custom made for his trip.  As you turned the pages, you would see the next segment of your trip unfold.  Perhaps that explains why I travel the way I do. I'm not good at spontaneous travel but prefer to have things mapped out.  I use Map Quest most of the time or actual folding paper maps. (Some of you might have to "Google" that last one.)   I'm not good at using GPS because I don't like having a person with a British accent telling me what to do.  I like to know in advance what the next step is. 

On July 25 at 2:45 a.m., I began a journey when Stephanie passed away.   I don't have a map or GPS, and I don't really have a sense of where I'm going or how long it's going to take to get to wherever I'm going. This journey is unique to me and has many twists and turns as it goes.   It involves a sense of relief that my months of being Stephanie's care giver are over.  Relief that I don't have to do her daily dialysis treatments anymore and relief that I don't have to see the woman I love suffer in pain.  But loss that the woman I fell in love with over 35 years ago is not with me anymore.  

So here I am on this unpredictable, spontaneous journey which is why at any moment in time you may ask me: "How are you doing?" and the response may be "I'm doing alright", but the longer we talk, I might turn into a puddle right before your eyes.  It's completely random, and for those of you brave enough to be on the journey with me, you don't have to try to fix it for me because it can't be fixed, and my tears are not a set-back but rather fuel for the journey.  

I am fortunate to have some wonderful traveling companions.  My daughters, Abby and Emma, who are trying to understand their journey at the same time as I am trying to understand mine.  My family and my friends from inside and outside of our church community. But my most important companion is my Heavenly Father.  Each day I take time to be with him, and almost every day, He gives me something new to ponder. 

Proverbs 3:5-6 is one of those things. Here it is from the Message:  Trust God from the bottom of your heart;   don’t try to figure out everything on your own. Listen for God’s voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;  he’s the one who will keep you on track.

 Those words are about our general journey of life, but they have a special significance to me as I am on this random, unpredictable journey.  As I ponder those words, I take solace in the fact that my Heavenly Father is leading the way for me on this journey.  He knows where I am going and knows what pitfalls I'll need to avoid.  He'll be there to "keep me on track".  That doesn't mean that I don't need my other traveling companions.  It means that as long as I allow my Heavenly Father to lead me.  He will take me where I need to go.  After all, he has the "triptik"