Choosing Hope In A Hard Season

A homeschooling family we've never met lost their daughter when a car hit her and her bike. I have been watching their CaringBridge blog and praying however I can. Since their entries disappear when they update it, I am re-printing today's entry so that I can comment about what Rachael Kligmann's mother, Corrine, wrote today.

She starts:

I keep thinking that maybe it is time to let this journal go. But then so many people are telling us that it helps them to know how we are doing and honestly, that does help us. It helps to not have to say it all the time.

I cried through much of church today. People keep asking me how I am doing and I know it is because they care. But I don't know what to say.

I talked to a friend who noticed I was teary,and told her I need a 'stock' answer for that question. She said I should tell people I am 'up and down.' That is the truth. One hour I am okay and the next it washes over me.

There are two questions I don't know how to answer actually. The other one is: Is there anything I can do to help? Yes, I am sure there is; there must be. But I don't know what it is. If you think of something let me know and I will gratefully accept I am sure.

It has been a month since Rachael died already. Pete and I talked about it and it seems like maybe we should at least have some idea of how to proceed. I think that we are just now barely beginning to get our feet under us. Just barely. I have heard that the first year is the hardest, but wouldn't that mean that after a month it would begin to feel better? I cry 10 times a day at least. It is like a constant leak. I don't feel any better today than I did the day after she died. I know Pete is about the same too.

Actually I described it the other day like waves in the ocean. They are constant and if you stand hip-deep and let them move around you it is hard to stand up but most of the time you do. Sometimes though there is a wave that you don't know is going to wash right over your head. Most of the time I can stand and the grief washes around me and tries to knock me down, Sometimes I see a big one coming and I can brace for it, but sometimes, unexpectedly one will wash over my head and knock me down and I grieve much harder.

I know that other people have survived this. I know that other people have come through deep grief and been happy again. I feel right now like we are just waiting and slogging through. There is no joy. There is no color. There is no flavor. I do what I think I should do, not anything that I *want* to do.

We are going to a James Taylor concert tomorrow, thanks to Eric and Denise. I really want to enjoy it. I have always wanted to see him. It is nice to be with them because if I cry off and on they are not scared by it. And I do cry off and on.

I am certain that we are not a lot of fun to be around. We are depressing to other people. Some are avoiding us I think. I don't blame them. I wouldn't know what to say either. There really aren't any words.

We do talk about Rachael. We need to. We cry. We need to do that too. Pete holds it in all day at work. I think he is actually mostly able to compartmentalize this huge monster and do his job. But then on the weekends he sleeps and cries and rests.
I know some people have been concerned about us as a couple. The divorce rate for couples who have had a child die is something like 80%. We are doing well. We are close and holding on to each other tightly.

I am holding on with both hands to the fact that God knew this was going to happen and that Rachael lived *her* whole life. Her whole life. Not 100 years or nearly as long as I had planned or as long as she had planned. But every single day that God planned for her.

God gave us a gift. It is a long story but it is a special gift and I will try to shorten it a bit.

Last fall-ish I had purchased an Aflac accident policy. With 9 kids still at home I figured it would be a good deal, right? Wrong. In February I canceled it because we hadn't even used it once and it was $45 a month. We didn't pay it for three months. No payment. On June 17th Aflac took out an automatic draft just like nothing had changed. I was furious when I found out on the 18th.

Rachael was hit by a car while riding her bike on June 18th. I forgot all about the policy until after she died and I got home and checked our bank accounts.

I couldn't believe that the policy could be active based on that one payment. It was. There is a small (for life insurance) life insurance policy for Rachael included. We will be receiving a check from them soon.

The really miraculous thing for me is not that there is some money coming. What is miraculous and the real gift to me, is that God Himself had to have arranged it. AND even more importantly is using that to tell us that HE planned this. He knew before it happened and He had it all under control. He wanted to send us a message that all of this was His plan for Rachael and for us. It was simply her time to go.

I don't pretend that it is okay with me and I can't pretend that I understand why He wanted it this way. But it does make it easier to trust Him.

God has asked us to trust Him many times before now. We chose to obey God when He asked us to allow Him to plan our family and it was all about whether we trust Him.

Do we? We did and it was very hard.

Do we trust Him even now? In some ways I am wondering if this is all part of trusting Him with our family. Is He the author of Life and Death and do we trust Him with that or not?

I wish I could say that I do without qualification. But He didn't give this time. He took away.

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Anyway.

- by Corrine Kligmann

Wow. How does anyone put one foot in front of the other after such a loss? I'm so glad she sees what her heavenly Father intended for her to see in providing the insurance.

Corrine wonders that if the first year is the hardest, then shouldn't they be doing better a month afterward. From my own experiences with grief, I can say probably not. Everyone's grief is as unique as the person, but deep grief really does ebb and flow. Being up and down is the only thing you can count on with your emotions. Tears, laughter, anger, regret, despair, and even envy all run amok in what has to be one of the most bewildering experiences a person can face. It's not rational, logical or progressive, and it lasts for months and years. It sits like a stock pot on the stove with all sorts of things coming up and disturbing the flotsam on the surface. Grief is an unbelievably messy and chaotic experience for parents to face.

I'm glad Corrine is being honest in how she feels about God allowing Rachael to die. We aren't supposed to be okay with God taking a loved one. We have every reason to throw a fit in the face of what looks to us to be a colossal injustice. My own children get frustrated and angry when they lose what they wanted and I expect that from them. I imagine it's the same with our heavenly Father as well. But at the end of the tears and frustration, I still want my children to trust me and know that I have their best interests at heart.

That's the tricky part. There are things that God sees from His eternal perspective that we don't see from our point here on earth, stuck in linear time. One second procedes to the next and we have no way of saying with absolute certainty that we know what's next for us, let alone what's next for anyone else. Could we even begin to pretend to know what's good for us? We only know where we are at and what we love (and despise). We know most of the things we want and some of the things we need. We hope, but we don't know. We take action, but we can't fully predict the results. It's times like these, situations like this, where any illusion of control is fully wrenched away from our grip and terrible reality rears its ugly head. Then we are forced to either turn to our faith in God, or abandon our faith, mistrusting God.

Yet if we turn our backs on the God Who wounds us, we also reject the God Who heals us in turn. Everything has its season and eventually autumn and winter are replaced by spring and summer. Would the God Who gave us these seasons not use it to show us that He will make all things new again? If there is death among the flowers and trees, new life waits only a winter away. While we might not find pleasure in the frosty chill, we can at least hold out hope for God's eternal spring.

Please keep the Kligmann's in your prayers and if you have the time, drop them a note to let them know you'll be praying.