Tuesday, May 31, 2016

When grief doesn't end

I listened to a pastor this past Memorial weekend who spoke on the topic of marriage and family. He was a wonderful speaker and had several relevant points regarding relationships. He spoke of the difficulties and storms that are guaranteed to come along at some point in everyone's lives. He spoke with confidence how we can take assurance and comfort in knowing that every storm in our life will pass. Yes, to some extent, that is true.

But I'm guessing, however, that he likely wasn't referring to the grief that remains after child loss or death.

Definitely, the initial "storm" after loss subsides. The winds die down, the waters recede, and the black clouds eventually roll away. But while the storm may be "over," its reverberating aftermath continues for weeks, months, and, indeed, years. Nearly five years later, my son's death continues to impact his brothers' and sisters' lives, as well as my husband's and mine.

Grief is not a passing storm.

Grief is a thread that is woven throughout the tapestry of our lives. It will, with God's help, not be the unraveling of us, but rather be the binding stitched onto the storybook of our lives. Max Lucado explains the idea of reweaving in the story of Joseph:

“You meant evil against me,” Joseph told his brothers, using a Hebrew verb that traces its meaning to “weave” or “plait.”
“You wove evil,” he was saying, “but God rewove it together for good.”
God, the Master Weaver. He stretches the yarn and intertwines the colors, the ragged twine with the velvet strings, the pains with the pleasures. Nothing escapes His reach. Every king, despot, weather pattern, and molecule are at His command. He passes the shuttle back and forth across the generations, and as He does, a design emerges. Satan weaves; God reweaves.
Death is our enemy. (1 Cor.15:26) Death destroys. The loss of a child destroys a parents life. And if there are siblings, it destroys their lives, as well. The world we once knew exploded when Matt died. One of Matt's sisters continues to struggle with the loss of her brother. She stuffed her grief for two years after he died, but eventually the volcano of grief poured out in a molten lava mess of social anxiety and depression.

I have often felt as if I didn't just lose one child July 29, 2011, but two.

While our daughter has come a long way in three years with professional counseling, her grief, like ours, has not ended. But the broken pieces, like our tears, are being collected. (Psalm 56:8) The enemy Death means to destroy and work evil out of the circumstances in our lives, but God our Father, who loves us and intends good for us, reweaves the thread of grief. Death wove a black thread into the fabric of our heart, but the Master Weaver (per Max Lucado) picks up the black thread and reweaves it with scarlet thread; the thread of hope, Jesus Christ.

We may feel as if the storm never ends, but, as the pastor from the weekend pointed out, God doesn't move. When the storms come, and we wonder where He went, we must remember that God does not leave us. He is in the midst of our circumstances. Trust Him with your pain. He reminded us of Psalm 55:22a: "Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you..." and that the word cast here is not in the context of casting out and reeling back in as in fishing, but rather a complete dropping. Drop your cares on God and do not pick them back up again.

Grief is not a passing storm, but that doesn't mean we have to hold on to the pain. Instead, we hold on to the One who holds us. We hold on to the anchor, to truth. We allow God to thread the needle of grief with His promise of eternal life through His son Jesus Christ. And the thread of grace will keep us until the end of the story. What God is creating we cannot fathom, but we can trust that it is good.

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

VEX Robotics scholarship presentation video

The Matt Cherney VEX Robotics scholarship was presented today by our close family friend and "second" dad of sorts to Matt. We are incredibly grateful to Max for presenting, and to Sam, for recording it. The video is below, but can also be viewed on Youtube HERE.


Friday, May 13, 2016

The Matt Cherney VEX Robotics Scholarship

This past week my husband and I selected a scholarship recipient. On Wednesday, May 18th, the Matt Cherney VEX Robotics Scholarship will be presented. It is given with great grief and great joy. May is a hard month for us. Matt's birthday, his sister's high school graduation and party, our anniversary (this year on Mother's Day), Mother's Day, and the scholarship selection all fell in the first eight days of the month. Yeah. Whew is right.

We are incredibly thankful, however, for God's provision. Without the amazing generosity of family and friends this $1000 scholarship wouldn't be possible. Matt had a gift with computers and programming. Anyone that knew him discovered that quickly. He had a passion for computer technology that would have been a perfect fit with VEX Robotics. I am forever grateful that Matt's memory, talents, and skills live on through this scholarship.



Our grief is great, but our joy is as well. Knowing that Matt, through this scholarship, is touching the lives of students who share his passion is a great, great comfort. Thank you, dear family and friends, for helping to redeem our pain, comfort us in our grief, and exemplify the body of Christ.
VEX Robotics
 VEX RoboticsTHE MATT CHERNEY VEX ROBOTICS SCHOLARSHIP
Matt Cherney attended Mankato East High School in the 2010-11 school year as a sophomore student. At age 16, Matt’s passion was computers, specifically programming and trouble-shooting. He was self-taught and loved learning everything he could about programming. In his own words from his Facebook page, he said, “I LOVE Java, C/C++, JavaFX, XHTML, HTML, CSS, JavaScript, and XML. OH! And Perl, and C#, and...” Matt surpassed even his dad in his knowledge of computers (which is impressive since his dad is a senior programmer/analyst of over 20 years).
Matt joined the BPA club (Business Professionals of America) at the beginning of the school year and quickly proved his skills were on par when he placed 1st in PC Servicing & Troubleshooting and 5th in Java Programming at the BPA Regional Competition. Since East High School no longer offers a BPA club, the Matt Cherney scholarship is now being offered through East High’s Vex Robotics program. Vex Robotics is a program Matt would definitely have participated in with great joy.


If you are interested in contributing to the scholarship fund, please email me. Our hope and desire, of course, is to offer this scholarship for many, many years to come. 

Monday, May 2, 2016

#MattMocha

Today is my son's 21st birthday. It should be a day of great joy and celebration. But it isn't. Not really.

Because when you have a child who died, these days are difficult. We try to eke out as much redemption as we can by remembering Matt and all the things we love best about him. We remember the ways he made us smile and how he brought us joy. We move forward, choosing joy over bitterness.

We gather ideas and give away Mocha Frappes to stem the flow of grief from my busted heart that threatens to bleed out.


I slept fitfully last night, thinking of this day twenty-one years ago when I was in labor with this baby who had already stolen our hearts, before we knew that parenting was a "No-Holds-Barred" contract signed with undying love.

We were blessed to celebrate sixteen years of birthdays with this "Gift of God," my Peanut, my Mateo, Matthew, Matt.

We are blessed to have family and friends who grieve with us, who weep with us, and who remember Matt with us. These friends and family are the tourniquet applied to my heart today. They are the ones who allow me to cry and remind me that hope and joy are still here...though just buried right now.

We are off to get a DQ cake shortly. I think Matt would like it. Here's to hope and joy.

Friday, April 29, 2016

Matt's 21st birthday

Most of our close family and friends know the following 21 things about Matt. But Matt has been gone for over four and a half years, and many new friends have since come into our lives, friends who wonder who he was, who desire to catch a glimpse of this boy of mine who would now be an adult, a young man of 21.

I want them to know Matt as much as they can even if he's not here. Like every bereaved parent, I don't want my child to be forgotten. I want people to ask about Matt. Parents love to talk about their kids, and bereaved parents are no different. It is a tremendous gift when we are given the opportunity, to not only talk about the ones here with us, but about the ones with whom we will someday be reunited. We take joy in our kids, both those who remain with us and those with whom we ache to see again.

For Matt's 21st birthday, I compiled a list of 21 things about Matt. Sticking to just twenty-one things is like asking me to pick my favorite book! There are too many good ones to choose from, but I exercised self-control and plucked from my shelf of memories whatever came to mind first.

21 Things About Matt:
  1.  a deep thinker (It's partly where he got his nickname of "Mr. Stoic.")
  2.  favorite color was blue (cerulean...look it up ;) )
  3.  a smirk = a smile
  4.  liked playing Poker
  5.  could suck down a McDonald's Mocha Frappe faster than anyone
  6.  enjoyed playing ping pong several times a week with the "Pong" group from Bethel
  7.  favorite snack was Cheez-Its
  8.  ate a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats cereal every night before bed
  9.  avid bird watcher - his favorite was the Indigo Bunting
  10.  liked playing chess
  11.  liked playing tennis - though he was the least athletic kid!
  12.  liked playing golf - albeit only in our yard!
  13.  loved Trout Lake Camp - one of his favorite places to go (ours, too.)
  14.  Green Bay Packer fan - What can I say? He knew how to pick 'em. ;)
  15.  Bethel Media Technician - he loved his job behind the scenes
  16.  enjoyed learning Spanish - I like to think he liked Spanish because I always called him "Mateo" as a little boy. ;)
  17.  favorite candy was Spearmint Starlight Mints
  18.  loved playing LOTRO (Lord of the Rings online)
  19.  loved his brothers and sisters deeply - especially when each was a baby
  20.  brilliant with computers, especially troubleshooting and repair (He placed 1st in PC Troubleschooting & Repair and 3rd in Java Programming at the State Regional Competition level in 2011.)
  21. loved Jesus

On this milestone of a birthday, I can't help but be tempted to wonder and ponder the "What if's." Yet I know the "What if's" are unproductive, so I will turn them instead into "God knows." God knows every step I take. He knows every tear I shed. God knows the broken places that remain.

The broken places, however, are not the only thing to remain. I have hope. I have faith. And I have love. Love for God and love for my son.



On Matt's birthday this year, his 21st, I'd like to give away 21 Mocha Frappes. Will you join me in remembering Matt? On May 2nd, would you send me a picture, post a reply, or email me with your story of how you blessed someone with a Mocha Frappe in memory of Matt and in celebration of his 21st birthday? 

***If finances are a challenge, no worries. It's really not about Mocha Frappe's. It's about telling a bereaved parent that you remember their child, you acknowledge their loss.  

Monday, April 18, 2016

Go Around Again!

Do you remember the book "Go, Dog. Go!" by P.D. Eastman? Well, I do. I've only read it, say, a million or two times to all seven of my children over the span of close to twenty years. It's a great book.
But life can read a bit "bookish" at times.
Do you see where the blue dog shouts, "Go around again!" in the picture? That's when this life feels bookish, the days going 'round and 'round. Only, unlike the excitement of a Ferris wheel ride, life spins sickeningly fast, excitement turning to nausea, and we simply want off the ride.
This grief journey began as a Tsunami, then quickly transitioned to a wicked roller coaster ride. The roller coaster ride eventually jerked to a stop and threw us out, only to land in line at the Ferris wheel. Life has become a series of "Go Around Again" stops:

Holidays 
- Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Father's Day, 4th of July, etc. Any family gathering where Matt is absent. 

Matt's birthday, May 2
- as well as my birthday, his dad's birthday, and his siblings' birthdays. Again, any event where Matt is absent.

Matt's death/life date (the day he physically died on earth, but stepped fully, completely ALIVE into heaven)
- July 29, 2011

These "stops" are rough, the jerk a painful transition. However, I've learned a few things that have helped with the Ferris wheel rotations. Perhaps the greatest, for me, has been to plan ahead for these significant "date stops." Whether it's spending the day at home in bed crying or getting out to participate in an activity to honor our son's memory, it has helped to have a plan. Either way, the dates suck, but having a plan provides purpose and the mild comfort, at least, of feeling in control of an event that is very much out of my control.

Matt's birthday is in two weeks, his 21st. We have a plan for the day. Our hearts continue to grieve deeply the loss of our son, but we are held by the truth that Matt is alive in heaven. This earthly life is temporary for all of us. Because of Jesus, we have hope and grieve with hope. Like Jesus, we endure because of the assurance of the joy that awaits. While we may "go around again" on the Ferris wheel of grief, we rest in the Grace that goes with us.

On Matt's birthday this year, his 21st, I'd like to give away 21 Mocha Frappes. Will you join me in remembering Matt? On May 2nd, would you send me a picture, post a reply, or email me with your story of how you blessed someone with a Mocha Frappe in memory of Matt and in celebration of his 21st birthday? 

Friday, February 26, 2016

He never lets go

Dear Matt,
Your sister is graduating this year. It's hard to believe, and it brings so many emotions to the surface. Once again, the waves of "if only" and "what if" rhythmically pound the shores of my sorrow. I've waded long enough in the waters, however, to know that I will not drown. I know enough now to "take captive every thought." I will not allow my mind to go "there," for I know there is nothing productive in it. Instead, I will focus on the blessings. I will smile and cherish the memories and give thanks that I got to be your mom. I will look for the "God-Nods." I will give thanks for God's goodness and grace.

Your sister also got her first job. (Actually, two jobs!) I know you'd be pretty psyched and happy for her, especially regarding the summer job. God has been good. With every milestone your brothers and sisters reach, my heart twinges with joy and grief. (What irony that we really do live on Bittersweet Lane.) I shake my head in disbelief, yet am held solid because I know that my Redeemer lives and that He has a good and perfect plan.

This moving through milestones is tricky business, but God's hand is obvious, never letting go of mine. As I plan your sister's graduation party and prepare for her "leaving the nest," I am struck by how familiar this event feels to losing you. It has left me feeling quite disoriented. I cannot, try as I might, put words to it. However, I came across this article from 2006 a few weeks ago to find that Beverly Beckham had, indeed, found the words. I have read and re-read it several times, and what I appreciate most is this line:
It's not a death. And it's not a tragedy.
But it's not nothing, either. - Beverly Beckham
It occurred to me why this line so resonated with me. It's because it acknowledges a mother's heart. It is validation. Validation is what every grieving parent wants, as well. Just acknowledge our child, no matter their "departure" date. I ache to do the things with you that I am doing with your sister, but I know that that is not the thinking to embrace. I must lean into truth, into "It is what it is" and continue to trust God. I must stay here in the moment. I don't want to cheat your siblings out of their special moments and milestones. I want to find joy.

I know that you would want that, too, Matt. I know that God also sees my pain and my struggle. He knows the fight for joy, how it doesn't come easy. He never fails to amaze me with His grace. Several weeks ago, it showed up big when I decided to join the audio-visual team at church. It was a position you loved doing, too, and were so good at. I never imagined I'd be doing it some day, either, but the need was great, and I decided to give it a try.

Wouldn't you know that God was already preparing me. Several days before my first practice with the team, the song by Matt Redman, "You Never Let Go" came on the radio. Oh, what emotions and memories this song brings up, memories of your funeral. However, little by little over the last four and a half years, I've been able to tolerate it more and more. I hadn't heard it in at least six months or more, but early last week, it played twice the same day. Thursday came, and I showed up for av practice. The worship team gathered to run through the upcoming songs for Sunday. I sat behind the sound board and took a deep breath, trying not to think of the last time I saw you sitting in this exact same spot. As they played the first few notes, and I glanced at the song list, I shook my head and let out a knowing sigh.

God's grace showed up big as I pulled up the first slide and the worship team sang the first line to, yep, you guessed it, Matt Redman's "You Never Let Go." I felt like God was saying, "He's right here." It was a God-nod, for sure. I silently thanked God for His grace. My heart filled with peace as my eyes blinked back tears. It was yet another step of healing.

I thought of God's grace, and then of your sister's graduation. I know I don't have to worry about it. I don't have to worry and wonder how I'm going to deal with her leaving and graduating because I know that His grace will be sufficient. It will be there when I need it. God's grace is not something we encounter in advance. It's not a transaction or "cash advance." It is lived moment by moment, poured out in abundance at exactly the right time. It is sufficient because He never lets go.



I love you.

Love, Mom