What would I take with me if I knew I had to leave our home with only what I can manage to carry?

My Bible? English or Portuguese?

Photo albums? Irreplaceable photographs?

Documents that are difficult to replace?

What of the gifts from my children and other small treasures?

We know a few people who had to do this. What about those people who have been devastated by natural disasters – floods, hurricanes, tornadoes, tsunamis, earthquakes? Many of them did not have a chance to take anything and lost everything. Well, almost everything. Some escaped with their lives.

At times, I imagine my response, inner and immediate, to devastation and loss. With the death of our son, it is not so difficult a thing to imagine. That is a tangible, heart-rending loss. We have experienced many kinds of losses in our lifetimes, Tim and I. Most are irreplaceable. Many have to do with the heart or lost relationships.

Perhaps I consider this more often than the average person because roughly every four years, we leave most of our things behind and return to the U.S. for missionary furlough. It is meant to be a time to share with our supporters and family what we have done as their ministry representatives in Brazil. To share what the LORD has done in and for us since we last were together. To renew relationship. To talk about the new chapters God is writing. And to make new friends. We look forward to all of that.

And then, after too short a time, we leave those people and experiences behind, to return to ministering on the field to which God has called us. Our hearts never do become accustomed to this back and forth movement, but we have gotten better at doing it.

The older we get, the more we realize that it is just preparation for another move, to “a city…whose builder and maker is God.” And, of course, we will not take things with us to THAT destination! Everything we need is already there, waiting for our arrival. What is left behind is remnant of a life lived here. Because of Holy Scripture, we know, believe, and embrace what was promised even though we can only imagine what that means and how our lives will be enriched by those promises.

When not in the presence of like-minded people, we admit that we are strangers and pilgrims on this Earth. We don’t fit in very well. Not because we do not try to fit in, but because our lives are built on and framed by Christ. We are members of a larger group, “the household of God”. This is where we fit, whether in the U.S. or in any other country on Earth. This is His temple, where His Spirit lives.

-Vicki

“For he looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God.” Hebrews 11:10

“These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.” Hebrews 11:13

“Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God; And are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone; In whom all the building fitly framed together groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord: In whom ye also are builded together for an habitation of God through the Spirit.” Ephesians 2:19-22

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Oh the excitement! First, getting acquainted with my Saviour, then assuming the student stance in preparation for going to the mission field. Language study and early beginnings in the field (ours, Brazil) – acquiring a vehicle, locating a place, establishing our home, and teaching the Bible to others, all the while, watching God build His church. Everything was new and thrilling to an open heart and mind.

Fall

We matured along the way. Our children grew and eventually moved into their own lives. Our congregation became a church, many of “our” spiritual children moved on to other places and ministries. Some stayed as the backbone of this work, raising their children, starting other preaching points, and introducing many to the Gospel of Christ. And we moved to another town, to a place where Tim had worked for many years (remember how he loves to ride the circuits) to new ministry endeavors.

Winter

Many people think that in the winter of their lives, they will slow down, retire, or stop most activity. It is true of some. And it depends on your definition of these terms. Our physiognomy may age, we may move our focus, we may or may not be as visible as in times past, yet we have not yet moved into the winter of our lives.

The next 20 to 30 years will show that we have mastered many aspects of living that we had not accessed in our youth. We have much experience from which to draw strength and courage. We have much more knowledge and know-how than in our early years, and with that comes a settling of the spirit that steadies our decision-making and advice giving.

Spring

Springtime is when our nurtured gardens surprise and delight us with brilliant displays. We have magnificent results because of hard, laborious, self-giving, time-consuming, life-altering give-and-takes, adjustments to “climate” and “soil”, hit-and-miss experimentation from specific research, and a learning process through figuring out whether or not the advice of others works for us or not, as well as, an understanding we gained from recognizing how weak we really are and how strong HE is. This is a season of knowing. This is a season of stability, of integrity, and of peace. It is this and more, because, and only because, it is motivated by – “… love the LORD thy God with all thy heart, … all thy soul, … all thy strength, and … all thy mind.”

-Vicki

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Our Henrietta Hen and her Chicks

By these blogs, I give you a look into missionary life, highlighting our own because that is what I know best. One of my greatest challenges was our children’s educational need. Although, at times, shared with a bona fide schoolteacher, it was pretty much my “baby” to gestate, carry, and navigate for roughly 24 years. Some of that time, I had no idea what I was doing!!!

After High School graduation, I studied Christian Education and Missions at Faith Baptist Bible College. We married and had our first child, and then began deputation to raise funds for serving in Brazil. When we came to Brazil as new missionaries, I assumed that our children would attend the Fortaleza Academy, just like their Daddy did. With a great school for MKs on the field, why bother to look into materials and learn to actually teach my own children anything more than what came naturally. You know, bedtime stories, ABCs, counting, manners.

Using A Beka kindergarten curriculum, I taught our first child. I thoroughly enjoyed the prep and presentation. He longed to be out and about with his Daddy, reluctantly studying with Mommy. Our difference in experience made K-1 maybe a 6 on a scale of 1 to 10. And then it was furlough time. How nice that 1st grade was at a Christian Day School! I rested my fears to a capable and experienced schoolteacher.

Returning to the field, we left our 8 year old at boarding school, in the care of others. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. My heart ached; I cried buckets; yet, we all survived. I determined that as long as we had children in school, we would see them at least every quarter. Hubby agreed and that’s what we did.

Our Family in 1991

I need to condense this history so I don’t lose your attention here! Perhaps you already know that overseas missionaries divide their lives in terms on the field. Most often that’s 4-year segments, then a year of furlough. Hubby was never very pleased with “taking a year off”, as he would say. So one time I reluctantly gave in to taking a 6-month furlough. It didn’t work out so well in regard to our eldest’s schooling because it messed up his program at the MK school where they taught several subjects alternating years. Yet, we survived.

During furloughs, I bit my tongue many times when a sweet Momma shared her sadness and grief over a child going off to college. I do understand, AND, I know the pain of leaving a youngster in boarding school! When I did share my heart, I was offered compassion and tears. I thanked the LORD many times for Hannah and Samuel’s story in Scripture. In some ways, our lives are similar to royalty. I consoled myself with the thought that throughout history kings and queens sent THEIR children to boarding schools.

For 8 years, for various reasons, our other 2 children remained at home. Their educational needs fell to me. We experimented sending them to national school. Not good. First of all, it conflicted with furlough scheduling because the Brazilian school year is from February to November. Also, the classes were extremely relaxed to the point of teachers not supervising the children enough resulting in chaos in the classroom! So I checked out various curriculums and settled on one.

Gratefully, this particular school fit our budget and taught me how to keep records and what papers to file away as proof. As difficult as it was, I maintained school hours and our home. Unable to do it all, I slowly and reluctantly relinquished ministry responsibilities. I was determined to prepare our children for the day they’d attend the Academy and then college, insisting on doing my best! A dear friend even supplemented with materials and books that stimulated the interests of our children.

Doug & Patty, two of our many pet residents

We were able to take our second child for 7th grade and our third child for 5th grade at the Academy. It was a relief to me mainly because the older one was advancing more quickly than I could keep up. My own ability in math and science did not make the grade! In some subjects the two were practically teaching themselves!

Many capable adults were dedicated to caring for our children while we returned to the interior to minister. Hubby knew from his own experience that our children would be fine. It was never easy to leave them. I prayed throughout my days for their safety and well-being. And, we survived all of the challenges of separation. God even gave us the gift of our children’s birthdays falling at break times – one at Fall Break, one at Christmas Break, and one at Spring Break!

I never dreamed that I would be required to make so many difficult choices. In each situation, we made the best choices we could with prayer and the information and maturity we had. I have few regrets when it comes to my kids, yet, I would rather have had my “babies” near me for those years. I think I learned far more from them than they did from me! Even now, we are a continent away from two of our children and their spouses, and the other one, by the breath that keeps us from the other side of this life. Our children matured becoming capable, fun-loving, wise adults who enjoy making us a part of their lives.

-Vicki

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When baking brown sugar fudge and having a challenge – too small pan, overflow into oven and oven floor, I prayed. I did not want to waste. I did not want that mess and all that clean up either! Turned out to be very easy cleanup because still hot, it did not stick. If I had let it cool 1st, it probably would have stuck. Then the dog excitedly came in and licked up most of the crumbs on the floor.

In the past, it has been very hard on me when food flops. Only one short period of time in our lives do I remember money not being tight. Also with so much poverty around us, I cannot justify throwing out something edible. When bread does not rise, I slice it, cut it into cubes, dry it, and then put it through the blender – Voila! Grapenuts cereal. Or cube, herb, and dry – croutons! Or slice and dry – Melba toast!

It is far more of a challenge to deal with reality flops. We all have them at one time or another. Amazingly, at some of the most difficult times, times when I walked closely leaning hard on the LORD, He used what seemed to be flops-in-the-eyes-of-others to encourage someone who no other person had addressed, something in that individual that others either ignored or could not believe even existed. It could only have been His Holy Spirit using me by speaking through the deepest part of me exactly what was needed, candidly spoken to each one of those individuals in their deep need. They were not embarrassed by my comment(s) and we two were oblivious to the others around us, others standing nearby who were aghast at what I’d said and told me so later.

I came across a quote not long ago that epitomizes what I am talking about. I am also an artist of a sort – an unknown, unfulfilled artist. I have dabbled in lots of different kinds of art and have never perfected any of it. Would have loved to. I let other things take priority and did not build on those strengths. I did teach this principle when I had the opportunity to teach drawing once or twice. No erasers were allowed. We worked at incorporating what appeared to be a mistake into the drawing.

“Life is drawing without an eraser.” – John W. Gardner

Do not fear being used by God through your life flops. Draw close to Him and He will use you. Allow Him into your unique personality to reach those lives that no other person is reaching. Get in the habit of knowing Him by reading His Word daily, attending to Bible study, and spending time with those who love and serve Him, so that He can speak through your life – He will and He is very good at it!

-Vicki

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I just read someone say that the only good thing about Carnaval is that Easter is coming! In general, conservative Christians try to get away during this holiday when excesses are allowed. I think retreats at this time should be called “Retreat from Carnaval” instead of the generally accepted reference, “Carnaval Retreat”. Or, in Portuguese – “retiro do carnaval” instead of “retiro de carnaval”. There is a significant difference in changing that one little word. Our retreats are meant to take us away from the revelry.

Perhaps it began with ancient Greek worship celebrations to their god of wine, which was later adopted by the Romans. It occurs every year 46 days before Easter. The Roman Catholic Church modified this festival of dressing in costumes to lead into Ash Wednesday, which is the first day of Lent. The root word in the Portuguese term, Carnaval, is the word carne, which means flesh or meat. Lent is when Catholics are forbidden to eat meat, thus the word Carnaval meaning, “put away the meat”.

The word carne also refers to flesh and most evangelical believers are careful to separate themselves from this holiday. “[Carnaval] quickly evolved into a massive celebration of indulgences – one last gasp of music, food, alcohol, and sex before Lent – before the 40 days of personal reflection, abstinence, and fasting until Easter (not exactly what the Church probably had in mind). 40 days of purging sins, preceded by a week filled with virtually every known sin.” (http://www.afropop.org/multi/feature/ID/33/ – a site without pictures)

Many Carnaval traditions are borrowed from African traditions of the early slaves brought to Brazil. Seems that the whole country is excited about partying, carousing, singing, and dancing. The elaborate parades of Carnaval held in the larger towns became a part of the Brazilian celebration in the early 1900s.

I cannot find anywhere that this festival is actually sanctioned by the Catholic Church in Brazil. Here is an article from 2000 that talks about separating the sacred and the profane in the celebrations:

Catholics may sue over Carnaval floats
http://www.latinamericanstudies.org/brazil/floats.htm

My Catholic acquaintances have no qualms about their participation and are excited about the festivities. Children are encouraged to watch the festivities on TV and to dress up in costume to dance to the beat at their schools. A neighborhood preschool even had their version of Carnaval and I was amazed to see teachers in costume dancing with the kids who were quite into the gyrations!

To this believer in Jesus Christ who considers the Bible to be her manual for living, it is absurd to imagine that God would condone such behaviour. I am responsible to live a prudent life all of the time. There is no division between lascivious living and righteous living making them both okay. God says that I am to be Holy like He is and strive to not practice sinning. All of the time.

-Vicki

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We live in the sertão – that is, semi-arid, dry for most of the year. We just had two days with several wonderful, refreshing rains. What a pleasure! The previous days, it was heating up close to 100 F and feeling a bit humid. Some lightning with thunder and a few strong winds accompanied the rain. And now it is cooler. The farmers are happy to see rain, too. Many interior places have not had rain in too many months.

We also have times of drought in our ministries and personal lives. They are challenging days of everyday routines, pushing us to share the Gospel story without seeing any response. Sometimes it can go on for several years. We have been at this for long enough to know that it is a season, not an always. Yet, it is disheartening and discouraging. We hafto draw on our inner resources and the stories we have heard from both Scripture and the lives of others to keep on going and continue trusting that the day will come when we see fruit from our labors.

Several times, the LORD has brought me treasures during these dry times to show me their value and that I had no idea what He was doing. He has brought to me, out of the blue, one or another of my Sunday School kids now grown-up. We have accompanied the activities of a few of these knowing they are serving in their local church. We “happened” to be with them when one or the other shared how I was a part of their spiritual training. And, there have been others who purposely came to tell me, that after all these years, they are still following the plan that I laid out for them in my teaching – salvation in Christ Jesus and dedication to following Him.

I consider these fruit from the dry, humdrum times in my life.

Just recently, I walked into a clinic and was waiting my turn. Learning that it would be an hour or so, I walked around and decided to sit next to a young woman asking if she minded and wanted to chat. She seemed delighted and said, “Of course!” Can you believe what we discovered as we talked?! She came to know the LORD as a child at our little church in Casa Nova. She did not remember my name or me and I do not remember her, but as we chatted, I guessed that she must have been one of my kids! Presently, she is not in one of our churches but is faithfully attending another. I could hardly believe that out of the dozen or so people that were in that waiting area, the LORD lead me directly to her!

We just do not know how our faithfulness is used to draw others to the LORD. I can hardly wait to hear all the stories in Heaven!

These lives are worth every season through which I have passed.

-Vicki

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Gift Exchange at the Vila Church

With Christmas, our birthdays, and Valentine’s Day, I have been thinking about gifts I have received and gifts I have given. A few times in my life, I have received gifts that I thought were given for my pleasure and for the desire on the part of the giver to bless me. Later, sometimes much later, I found out that the giver had bound the gift with conditions and expectations. These were confusing situations as I was completely unaware that the giver had expected something in return, from me.

Imagine a young man longing for relationship with a girl. He brings her a beautiful golden watch as a gift. She thanks him and spends the afternoon with him. He insists on more time together. She goes with him. He begins to pressure her for a more physical relationship. She refuses. A few weeks later, she braves up and explains to him that she is not ready for this kind of attention and will no longer see him. It all started with the acceptance of that gift.

Another example could be a parent buying a much longed for bicycle for their child. In the months following receipt of this gift, the parent reminds the child repeatedly that since the parent sacrificed to get that bike, the child is obligated to do whatever she is asked. The compliant child would probably do whatever, whenever asked by the parent. Any child would certainly tire of the nonstop reminders that the parent’s “love” is given with strings attached. The child’s reluctance to continue in quiet obeisance is actually a provocation by the parent. Any other response would probably be considered insolence and rebellion.

And the husband or wife who is only given gifts when reciprocal attention is desired. What message does this token transmit? Eventually, what expectations would the receiver understand to be attached to gifts? What would the gifts represent? And the misunderstandings abound when gifts are rejected or if the spouse asks that no more gifts be given.

Of course, not every gift we give has strings attached. And, yes, we all want our proffered gifts to delight our friends and family members. Without some kind of positive reaction to the gifts we give, why bother giving at all?

One of the words we teach our children about giving is the word kindness, as in “…be ye kind…” and “Do unto others…” The Bible also speaks of unselfishness and generosity. If the gifts we give are meant to manipulate or bribe others into making sure that our wants and needs are met, we stress and damage our relationships. In this way we confuse others through the use of what could be considered emotional blackmail, self-centeredness, narcissism, and passive aggressive behaviour.

“Every good and perfect gift…” from God comes to us completely paid for and without installments to be paid. If only we loved as He loves.

Our service to Him and to others is another topic.

-Vicki

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Asa-Branca (Patagioenas picazuro)/Picazuro Pigeon: A common bird of the sertão; resilient to drought conditions of the semi-arid desert-like conditions of Northeast Brazil.

I know I need to explain this title. You may think of me as special – I appreciate that. I am a gifted and creative person. I think we all are in a variety of ways. All of us like to go about creat-ing as much as our imaginative Creator has. I just wish the creators of chaos and evil would back off!

Every time a furlough is in sight, I start dreading certain aspects of it. Tim used to do all of the work prep of our presentation of reporting what we’ve been doing on the field. Used to. When I decided to try one and he liked it, he decided it would be my job from that moment in time onward. I was okay with trying it again. It worked out fine and I enjoyed learning another program. By the third time, Tim was absolutely convinced that I have a gift! So, here we go again.

This time, however, I told him that I want more input from him. We have discussed the basics. He is writing a script of sorts. He says he doesn’t mind being “the star.” We’re talking about something a bit different from the other three. I am clueless as to the specifics at this point so won’t give details.

Okay, back to my dread-threads. I am overly concerned about the question I most dread hearing from our supporters: “So, Vicki, what do YOU do?”

I hope I’m not making a mistake by admitting this. A girlfriend says she thinks the problem is that my definition of “missionary” is not broad enough. I wonder.

When we were fresh out of college, passed through BMM’s paperwork and examination, delighting in the deputation trail, gathering prayer and financial support, sharing our plans for future ministries on the field, it was much easier for me to define. I had read the books and done the assignments. I knew what I knew. I would BE a real live Missionary with a capital “M”!

Tim grew up on the field, a missionary kid, with all the apparent baggage needed to serve where he grew up. He already knew everything I didn’t know. And as soon as we arrived in Brazil, well he just fit right in. I didn’t know that I didn’t fit. I didn’t know that I wasn’t special.

Looking back after 36 years as missionaries, I can see that I kept hitting brick walls everywhere I tried to implement what I already knew was s’posed to work. You see, I had stepped into not only an established way of doing things, but also into a family-oriented way of doing things. And I did not fit. I was not special like I had thought I was before I arrived at being a newbie missionary.

Consequently, the things I had learned in Bible College had to be relearned on the field. I could not do anything “the right way”. Or maybe I should say that the textbook theories were just theories. Those who had come before us already had a plan. Some of the foundations were already laid out. And I was at the bottom of the totem pole, so to speak.

What does that mean? Um, well. It means that I live in the background and work behind the scenes. I came to the conclusion years ago, after a lot of frustration, that it made no sense for more than one or two leaders to be in the lead. With a plethora of commanders, my voice was not heard and I was stuck, unable to help anyone. We had plenty of leaders.

So, I raised my children and homeschooled them when necessary. I kept order in our home as best I could. I taught Sunday School and did visitation, including hospital visitation for several years, until it conflicted with my husband’s ministries. We used to work on prayer letters together. Now, he writes the article on the first page of our website, I do the rest. Sometimes, he helps with printing and enveloping the surface mail prayer letters. I make and take food for special events, decorate the church auditorium and bulletin board, and sometimes help with kitchen chores after events at church.

I also converse with those in need. Quietly I encourage hurting individuals to open their aching hearts in a safe place directing them to the only One that holds the spiritual key to their thirst. I am nobody special; I just have a heart to reach out to those who are.

-Vicki

BTW, if you register on this blog site, you will receive a notice when I add a new blog. Comments are most encouraging, too.

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Tolling

Trolling

Elaboration is sometimes good because it reaches into parts of us that are weary. So…here I go elaborating…briefly. Missions is more about effort and less about fishing; or is it the other way around?

The hour tolls for a brand New Year that we can no longer privilege ourselves of imagining we might pleasantly skip forward to responsibilities ignored and paybacks passed around to our acquaintances for borrowed hours and magical thinking that has kept us in a sphere of indubitably ignorant bliss around the neighborhood of all of our lame excuses and lackadaisical lies to self which blind us to who we actually claim to be and want to emulate.

Where in the world did we place our self-made dreams of becoming whom we’d never thought we would possibly turn into our graves of unlimited expressions and nightmarish expectations? If we only look underneath all of our goodwill and goodbyes, our good natures and grafted trials to make everyone love us for what we are not and for what we think they should, our complicated journeys might just unbound, rebound, and rearrange our bloated images of who we want to be, or become, or even, just simply hide behind.

Why can’t the human race relax? What makes us believe that it is okay and virtuous to pursue becoming what we are not already? Wherein lies the lies we tell ourselves?

By knowing God’s will in part only, is it possible to know the rest without taking a single step to live out what we already know?

Dare we step into our unknown tomorrows without making down payments on today?

Can our lives be paid in installments or placed on a layaway plan to be paid off some other day?

If any one of us decided that enough is enough and stepped out into the unknown without knowing where the next penny was to pay for the next meal to nourish our family to bring other children into this complicated world we wish we knew and controlled, would we be labeled “honey-covered, grasshopper-eating Johns” or “mystical, heads-in-the-clouds Marys”?

Who among us has altered the humdrum, illusionistic thinking of our world today and now? Who do YOU know that has threatened the outlooks and perceptions of the masses and the controlling authorities, undermining and shifting the patterns of societal, subversive, and subjective norms? Name just one person that you know…personally…up close that has made a diff.

What would it take for just one individual to step out of the safety of the crowds to say:

Hey, I stand for something bigger than BIG!

Hey, I will not stand for defamation of God or HIS WORD!

Hey, I want to share my experience with YOU.

Hey, whether you listen or not is up to you. Let me tell you the Truth. Let me show you the Way. Just listen to what Christ has done in my life and can do for YOU. Where will YOU spend your eternity that has already begun?

What do we have to lose? Life? Liberty? Happiness? A good time? Our reputations? Our livelihood? Perhaps all of these and more.

You might think it would not make a difference at all. Does it matter if we trend with the trendy or mix with the modus operandi? I suggest that we are losing ourselves in the patterns of modern society. We won’t make a bit of difference and we won’t spark anyone to think discriminately or question self to look for anything outside of the parameters or perimeters of their present existence if we do not stand for something BIGGER than ourselves.

No yelling. No banner waving. No sign in the grandstands. No obnoxiousness. No apologies. Quietly and persistently telling the story of one who lives and loves THE ONE Who lives and loves, making a difference in this world.

-Vicki

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As a child, Christmas was my favorite. I anticipated family time, foods that we did not have any other time of the year, sometimes a meal at someone else’s house, and presents from Mom and Dad. I did not realize my parents’ sacrifice until I was older. As a teen, seeing that meals and gift giving were a bit more extravagant in other homes was disconcerting. I don’t think I really got the full picture until I had children of my own and money was limited.

Most of our years here were financially lean years and I made a lot of the gifts. I enjoyed honing my sewing skills. I also loved it when Tim occasionally participated agreeing to help with things I was unable to do. Some of those gifts were a dollhouse, a tent, a surfboard cover, various articles of clothing, needlepoint and other pillows, and playhouse furniture.

During the many years before our church called a national pastor, I was in charge of ages 0 – 12 or so and the programs were my responsibility. I did a lot of things with the children and they had fun. Without much money to spend, I found it challenging to come up with low cost programs. I dressed the children using bedding and bits of things I had saved, rarely buying anything besides refillable markers (and more ink), paper, glue, and glitter.

We did not have instruments or sound system, so I taught them short songs about Christmas a cappella. I found poems for them to memorize and had them play out the Christmas story of Christ’s birth. I usually was able to give out little packages of candy, and sometimes, a small toy. It was a wonderful way for the children to have fun and share what they had been learning with their parents and other family members. I loved seeing “my” Sunday School kids smiling broadly and singing happily!

One furlough, a church asked us to be their Christmas missionaries. They showered us with gifts and a small artificial tree with lights and ornaments made by the ladies. I was so overwhelmed that I cried! It was our first tree and we used it until the year of our son’s death just before Christmas 1999. I had found an inexpensive taller 5’ tree and a string of 220-volt lights (the voltage here in Northeast Brazil). Our oldest son was coming from the U.S. for Christmas and we were all excited. He would be flying into Fortaleza, where our other two were boarding and attending MK school.

Our church had been on its own for several years and we were making plans to move. Tim purchased land for our house. He told me that the floor plan would be mine! I drew up 10 of them of varying sizes and he picked the one he liked best. It was an exciting time for us. The floor plans were in the hands of an architect who was drawing the outside of the house. The end of the school semester was close, the kids were taking their final exams, and we drove out to celebrate our daughter’s birthday and await our oldest son’s arrival.

On Dec. 16, the architect called us saying the plans were ready. So Tim and I excitedly took off to pick them up. When we arrived back on campus where we were staying in the guest apartments, everything began to play in slow motion, and that’s how it went for many days after that. We received the call that our middle child had been electrocuted (remember 220-volts here) while helping string Christmas lights!

The scene has played out in my mind and heart hundreds of times since then. It does not even need to be Christmastime. That was 12 years ago. Many people seem to think that with time, the emotion and sadness should pass and I should be less affected by the memories. I admit to you that I don’t feel stronger. I will lament my son’s departure for heaven every day of my life here on Terran. Just because my children no longer live with us does not mean that they are no longer a part of our lives. This experience has changed everything, and me, in many ways. I will never be the person I was before God took James. As challenging as this has been, God has been in it all the way. I do not want to lose what I have gained through this harsh experience.

A lot of people have been touched by our experience. Our family. Our friends. Our children’s friends. Strangers. Most have been tender towards our family’s needs. We are ever grateful for those who were close by and helped us carry the load of sorrow. A few still listen when we groan. The hope of Christmas past and Christmas now is why we still share the story. The story of Christmas gives meaning and precious hope to our own story.

-Vicki

Three links about lamenting:

Are Lament and Grief Biblical?

Lament in the Bible and in Music and Poetry across Cultures Today

Bringing Our Pain to God: Michael Card and Calvin Seerveld on Biblical Lamentation in Worship

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