What Grief Feels Like: feeling the void

[This is the start of an old post - started the first week of May and finished today]

Apparently today is "National Widows Day." ...and last week was National Infertility Awareness week. ...and last week was the last week of class. ...and April 29 was the day Dan and I met. ...and May 29 is our wedding anniversary.

Every day is a day.

But with grief...every day is effort.

And I don't think people outside of grief get that. I know I didn't. I didn't realize how much work it takes to just get through things. It's not something you think about it. I don't think about how much work each day is...or how empty I am ... until something brings my attention to it.

Two weeks ago, I realized that I have been "filling the void" rather than feeling it. Last week, that became very clear to me. The person who will be filling the position that was Dan's visited last week. I was really surprised at how hard the first day was for me. [point of clarification: I think the person hired is going to do a great job and I look forward to working with him, which makes it harder to explain...that's the sword of grief, I guess]

The people I work with are very quick to say that Dan isn't being replaced. It's very nice. But... it's not really accurate. I get it that Dan isn't being replaced...but, his place is. Very soon I will no longer say, when people ask about the livestock judging program, "Well, that person was my husband; he passed away in July." The place will be filled by someone else.

The last year for me has been a slow awareness to the reality that most of you grasped at the funeral. Dan died.

For me, the last year, has felt like I'm Katniss Everdeen from Mockingjay (the third book in the Hunger Games series):

"I am Katniss Everdeen.
I am 17 years old.
I am from District 12.
District 12 doesn't exist anymore...."

"I am Jessica Kiesling.
I am 38 (no!); I am 37 years old. [for some reason remembering that I am my age has been very hard]
I am married to Dan Kiesling.
Dan died.
Your husband, Dan Kiesling, died.
On July 11, 2016.
It was real."

Every day, I have to remind myself the facts of my life because they didn't feel real. They just can't be real!

Everyday, you feel a responsibility to be "okay" enough so that others can go on with their lives and not worry about you. It's a very hard burden to carry and seems impossible to let go. You MUST have someone outside the point of impact who can carry that with you. You MUST have someone outside the story who will  let you grieve.

It has to be someone outside of your story. Why? Because those people must grieve also - and you cannot deal with your own grief and someone else's. They are too big of burdens to carry. The person who helps you shoulder that burden must be willing and able to enter into your grief without adding to it.

My biggest challenge, and greatest gift has been finding those people and then allowing myself to grieve openly. I feel a need to understand my own feeling about them - because most people are NOT good listeners. Most people want to "figure out" your feelings instead of just letting you feel them.

This week (upon returning from Ireland), I am finally realizing what CS Lewis meant when he said, "I did not realize that grief felt so much like fear." Grief can paralyze you. Overwhelm you. Throw you into a full-on panic attack. It feels exactly like fear. And when those feelings come, you need someone to jump right into that pit with you, so that you realize that you're not drowning. There is a bottom, and you can stand up. Someone to look into your eyes, and say, "You. are. okay. because I have you."

Bear Ye One Another's Burdens -  St. Patrick Cathedral in Dublin

When you know someone who is grieving, I ask you to challenge yourself to be a listener. Don't try to solve. Don't ask questions. Don't advise. Just jump into the pit, and hold them. Look into their eyes, and just let them be.

If you are grieving, find someone outside that immediate circle of loss who can be your person. It's like when you're flying, "First secure the mask to your own face, and then you can help your loved ones." It's very natural for us to want to delay helping ourselves, to think we are doing something better by avoiding our grief to help another - but you aren't. Only by embracing yourself where you are and finding the HOPE Jesus has for you in the moment can you begin to offer anything to those also grieving in your circle.

Allow yourself to feel the void - that is the only route through which healing can come.
FEEL don't fill.

What Anniversaries Feel Like: More

Happy Feast of the Trinity!

The mystery of the Trinity: God existing in 3 distinct persons - Father, Son, Holy Spirit: each a manifestation of the essential identity of God: LOVE.

The priest today stated that this feast is the only feast that would have existed had the universe never been created, if man had never sinned - this feast alone would exist. It would exist because it is a celebration of God's eminent nature - not a celebration of action (miracle done for us); it is a celebration of existence. Wow. Since it is a celebration of God's existence, it is a celebration of the love - for God IS love.

Additionally, he explained that the beginning is divine love and the destination is divine love. Along the way, we are invited to experience, to share, to continue in, to progress toward divine love. This is the essence of our human existence. To know love, to be loved, to grow love, to be love. The challenge is to love like God does: loving the mere existence of the person and recognizing that they are good. [not for what they do, how they act, how they will elevate you, or who they can become: who they are in this very moment]

As I've been reflecting on this truth, I've come to this conclusion as well: if sin never entered the world, marriage is the only sacrament that would have existed. We would not have needed the sacraments of initiation (baptism, eucharist, confirmation) or reconciliation for we would always have perfect communion with God. We would not need the priesthood because we would have had full, direct communion with Jesus. I don't think we would have needed the sacrament of healing, for death had not entered the world. But marriage would have still existed...for it was in that Genesis account (prior to the fall) that God declared it was not good that man was alone, and so, a suitable helper was created.

All the Sacraments are expressions of Divine Love, but marriage is the most easily recognized as love. Today's feast of love happens to fall on a day of particular importance in my family: my grandparents' 70th wedding anniversary.

On June 11, 1947, Joe and Ellen Kremer united their lives together in the sacrament of marriage. My grandpa passed away nearly 7 years ago. When I realized that today is 70 years, I started to cry.

Why? I asked myself. Rationally, we will say that they had a long and fulfilling marriage; 63 years together, 6 children, 13 grandchildren, 14 great-grandchildren - there is so much to be thankful for. Indeed there is, and believe that I am quite thankful, but this is the truth that I realized with my own wedding anniversary two weeks ago: love will always want more.

My own experience arriving to this truth (and most likely, a continual progress toward living this and knowing it more and more) came on our anniversary, and I think, as both Dan's, and God's, gift to me.

Our 6th anniversary fell on Memorial Day. I determined that I wanted to spend it with Dan, so I went to the cemetery armed with journals, books, coffee and water - and a triangle donut (one of Dan's favorites, though not filled with maple cream so he would've been disappointed). It was a beautiful sunny day, and I sat on a blanket at Dan's graveside. The day reminded me of the afternoon we spent napping in the parking lot of a Catholic church (Christ the King) in Ann Arbor in the early days of diagnosis and tests.

In reading a year of our Marriage Encounter dialogues, and cards that I had written Dan last year, there is always an element in my writing of moving forward - of reaching higher - of accomplishing the work set out for us. Dan referenced it in some of his dialogues - it's as if I was willing him to get better.

and, I was. At least, I was trying. and, he was willing me to stay grounded; to be focused in this moment; to be right here, right now. I was willing him toward healing, and he was willing me toward hope. We were the embodiment of Winston Churchill's famous saying: "Never, never, never, never give up."

I think that's why this year has been so hard. Dan was everything to me - I gave all my effort to his care, well being, life...and I would gladly do it all again - and SOONER.

and I am convinced he would say the same. In his writing, there was always an element of wanting to be more for me; of not living up to his true potential or calling - of always feeling like he was falling short of the bar.

When I read our dialogues, I came to this realization: I just didn't get it! I knew that Dan loved me. I knew that he loved me very much. But, I didn't know how much Dan loved me, and I didn't REST in that love as a fact. There are times that I do, and you can tell because I write like it. In reading Dan's words, I realized that I needed to take more opportunities to build Dan up. He needed to hear words of encouragement and affirmation from me.

Recognizing this, I took some time to talk to Dan about it - and apologize for not realizing the depth, and not affirming more often how much I respected him. The day before our anniversary, I was sharing this insight/regret with my friend Andrea, and instantly, Bruno Mars' song, "When I Was Your Man" popped into my head.

"I shoulda brought you flowers,
shoulda held your hand,
sat around and talked for hours - when I had the chance,
taken you to every party - because I remember how much you love to dance,
those are the things I shoulda done, when I was your man."

Dan.

Popping into my head with a song, again. This time, to let me know that it's okay; he had regrets, too. He would go back and do things differently - better - too.

Of course.

Of course, we both wished for more. More of everything.
Of course, he wishes he had shown more romantically.
Of course - because he loved me - and when you love someone, you always want more.

When you are in love, you can simultaneously be beyond thankful for all that you have, and want more. You want the love to never stop, to never end. THIS is our example of God's love: we always want more of love! THIS is the beauty of God's infinite self, and Trinitarian unity: we will always be filled, and there will always be room for more. We will not be bored in heaven. There will always be more to explore in love: the heights, the depths, the width, the breadth of love continues on into everlasting.

Love doesn't end.
Love multiplies.
Love grows.

Love fills.

For the Graduates: Look for the Mentors

This is graduation weekend at Michigan State University. There is a special class of seniors graduating. Yes, when you've been in education for any length of time - secondary or post-secondary, each year there are special seniors graduating. But because there are special seniors each year doesn't diminish the special-ness of this year's seniors...rather, witnessing the growth of a freshman into a senior - this is our fuel - to look for the special-ness in the next group - while cheering on these seniors now "fully embracing" adulthood. :)

I teach a professional development course where my students develop, improve, and refine their job application skills through practice: writing resumes, searching for a job posting that fits their skills and interests, writing for a cover letter, and interviewing for that job. Each month, we have a networking breakfast where students have short (8-minute) conversations with an animal science professional or alumni to learn about their job and career path. My goal is to "take the edge off" the job search process - to make entering "the real world" seem less daunting and scary.

In addition, my students take the Clifton Strengths Finder assessment from Gallup. Many of them have taken the MBTI personality test in ANS 101. I utilize Strengths instead of MBTI in this class because the premise is that strengths drive engagement, and if employees are working to their strengths, they will be happier, more satisfied, more productive employees. However, most students of us don't think about our strengths...and few of us know how to recognize them.

Reading course reflections reiterated this. Several students commented about how it was nice to have "someone else" point out their strengths. Strengths are a combination of skills and talents that we often use so much in our daily lives that we don't recognize that particular way of operating as a strength. Students find it encouraging to have these 'quirks' affirmed as a strength - as something unique to be celebrated - because too often we only focus on our weakness. "We are constantly being reminded of where we fall short - not what we do well."

With that long introduction, my seniors, I want to tell you this:

You are about to enter the lion's den. I'm sorry; I could try to sugar-coat it...but "the rest of your life" is going to be a bumpy ride at times. NOT ALWAYS.

You might have seen some different articles floating around the Buzzfeed universe from your older friends about how 23 is the worst year of your life. I can't speak for everybody - but it was for me, too. There's no amount of preparation to get you through it. We can talk about things to consider in job application packages and budgeting - but, that is only a part of the hardness.

Most of you are out on your very own for the first time. Some of you are living in an entirely new community. Even if you stay in the same community - same university where you went to college (like me) - it's still hard! Because the people who made that place for you - they graduated, too. They are in different cities and towns...and the underclassmen (who now are upperclassmen), well - they just don't get it. They still get to take naps every day at 2pm and pull all-nighters, while you are trying to get used to being in an office 8-9 hours a day.

Oh - I think this was supposed to have a positive spin. Don't most of my writings?

Yes - because in this furnace of 23, you are going to transform into the professional that you were designed to be. The foundation was laid as a student - but, you are still clay. In college, you probably put some shine on (painted with glaze to make you a desirable candidate). However, those of you create pottery know that NOW your form has to first dry out and then be fired to be made firm. As potters will tell you, during the firing process some pots crack; some didn't have a strong form and the heat causes them to crack.

Let me tell you this: you will crack. Why? Because you were not designed to be a pot and hold water: you were designed to shine. But to shine, you have to endure flames through trial-and-error, disappointment, heartbreak, suffering...and there will be times that you may feel you are on the brink of being reduced to ashes.

How do you endure the flames? At this point, I want you to look for a mentor. Your mentor is the one who calls forth life from the suffering, beauty in the ashes, potential in the clay, purpose in the pressure. Your mentor sees you both as who you are - and who you were designed to be. They can stand seeing you in your mess because they know that you are more than a mess. They see your strengths - and they remind you of them when you feel like you're mostly a ball of weaknesses and faults.

I look back upon my journey - the last 20 years and I recognize my mentors and their importance in my life. There will be mentors who stay with you through life - and those who come in for moments: both are valuable.

High school: Deb Hall, my county extension education director - who recognized an entire person of potential beyond the shy, reluctant-to-speak freshman Jessica. Because she encouraged me to step out and speak up, I did. My involvement in county, area, and state 4-H activities would not have happened without her. Without that involvement, I would not be where I am - I would not be who I am. ...and even today, I call on her for advice - and she speaks such encouragement and truth to my heart. She sees my strengths when I can't.

College: Dr. Robert Martin - my college advisor - undergrad and grad school; Dr. FC Parrish, Jr. When I met with Dr. Martin, I always felt like I had the potential to change the world. That I brought light to someone's life...that I could be more than I currently was.

F.C. - man, he changed my life. He taught the Animal Products course - a course I never would have considered taking (until I dropped a super-boring Agronomy class and needed something and my friend Kelli told me to take it with her). He was the first professor who requested to meet with me after class; the first to question me about why ag ed - and the first to plant the seed of graduate school. After his retirement and my graduation, we continued to meet at least monthly for lunches - and I am forever grateful for his friendship. He was a mentor professionally, but even more so a model of how to life life well. He loved his wife; his family; his students; his job and his community - active in his church and community groups.

My first professional job: Lisa Schmidt. She was just a few years older than me - but she modeled professionalism. She was committed to constant growth and development. She wanted to be better - and she was an excellent model of being a woman in the workplace. I was in awe of her composure, her commitment to pursue a graduate degree while working full-time, her dedication to grow spiritually. She continues to inspire me today - in each of those areas, thought the commitment is now her commitment to her family and faith - to make a dramatic career move for the good of her family (and follow the call of God when it's not popular or easily communicated in our culture).


Mentoring relationships can be assigned, of course. In my experience, those have connected me with great people who became friends...but these lifelong mentors - those happened organically (or by providence for those of us who see everything as God-incidence instead of coincidence).  Likewise, there will be people in your personal and professional path placed to be your mentor. If you look for them, you will find them. 

When we break, our mentors are the ones who remind us that we are more. Good mentors practice the art of "kintsugi" in our lives. This practice repairs broken pottery with lacquer dusted with gold, silver, or platinum - treating the breakage and repair as part of the history of the object (Wikipedia, 2017). We are more than objects. The fire of 23 isn't designed to consume us: it calls forth who we really are. ...and our mentors help point out that those cracks: they are beautiful - because they are what gives us power, experience and strength.

My seniors: you are more. You are more than your accomplishments. You are more than your failings. You start a new journey: it will be difficult. It will be joyous. It will break your heart. It might break your spirit, at times. But it will not break you: you. are. more.

And you were designed for hard things! After all, you're a SPARTAN.

And SPARTANS WILL.

What Grief feels like: Living Plan B

Every semester, I give a talk to students called "Preparing for Jobs that Don't Exist Yet: and other impossible things." During that class, I present the idea to students that the idea of having a "Plan B" to vet school is...no way to live. So, instead, I posit the premise that students recognize the "parallel plan" that exists in preparing for life, whether that is to be a candidate for vet school, grad school, or working. Who wants to live their life as "this is my plan B"? NOBODY! 

...until.

Last week, like a ton of bricks - or more aptly, a bucket containing all your reasons "why" was knocked off your head - it hit me.

plan b. 

except plan b, for me, it's not a plan. it's some impossible reality that i'm living. 

but it's not impossible. it is reality.

Fifteen years ago, I was a senior graduating from college. And "my dream job" at that time was this: get married, have kids, be a professional volunteer in my community. [essentially, be my mom] Reality was that I was graduating having been on an average of 1 date/year of college - which meant that my 'dream husband' hadn't materialized in those four years. So, I had to go to plan B: get a job. build a career. figure out what God wanted me to do with my life. 

My "Plan B" was putting my degree to use. :) In college, I developed myself as a professional - but never put a lot of thought into constructing or identifying a path. I just identified what captured my heart, and identified those as "good fits." Then, after a brief, "failed" stint at the DNR, I identified the 3 things I wanted most in my next job. ...and TRIO Educational Talent Search fit that incredibly well.

During that time of living my Plan B, I grew in so many ways - but the primary two would have been spiritually and professionally. While living my "Plan B," I began to discover what I was capable of as a professional. I realized that pursuing a Master's degree so that I could obtain jobs where I could apply my strengths to do more good was necessary - so, I did it. Because of my spiritual life, I realized that the best path for me in that education was agricultural education...because, even though I'd been "living Plan B," my heart still yearned for the rolling hills - for the life that 18-year-old dreamed of: the wife of a farmer, the mom of farm kids, impacting her community. 

...and God opened a window. 

April 29, 2008. 

I met Dan Kiesling, the graduate student shepherd at the Iowa State Sheep Teaching Farm. (I didn't even know that was a thing) He was the 2000 Michigan FFA State President. He was interesting to talk to. He was funny. He was interested in me. He enjoyed talking to me. He danced with me. He asked me out that night. ...and even, when I had plans for Friday night, he pressed for Saturday instead. ...and when I had plans for Saturday night - and I countered with a late night dessert - he accepted. 

If you know our story, you know that it was immediate. ...and it wasn't. It wasn't quick. It wasn't easy. Both of us had our own mountains that stood in our way. ...and when we (individually) realized that we couldn't stand in the way of a great opportunity, a great person...then, the breeze came in through the window. 

You guys, that is what Dan represented in my life: the breath of fresh air. Breath. Life. 

Being married to Dan gave a breath to my life that...I knew I was meant for. I knew I was meant to be a wife. And I thought I was meant to be a mom. For those five years that I was Dan's wife, my life wasn't easy - but it was full of life - of breath - of richness - of purpose - of love. It was full.

I was full. 

My cup overflowed.

Last week, through a series of events, I was jarred to reality: I. am. empty. 

Are you familiar with the idea of "filling your bucket"? The idea is that encounters in our day either fill our bucket or empty the bucket. When working with others, the premise is that we fill others' buckets through our own - but also that they are filling ours' in return, so that we never go empty.

My image on Friday was this: a bucket filled with little slips of paper, carried on my head, was knocked - violently - to the ground...and my bucket and its contents were strewn all over the ground.

...and, I. was. shattered. 

Shattered.

Empty.

My dream job...a wife and mom. 

My reality...a widow at 36. a childless widow. working at her husband's alma mater, in his office suite, his dream job for his beloved department, pouring every.ounce.of.energy into students' development - and getting raked for those efforts being not enough and too much - longing for grace, understanding, love... 

Shattered.

Empty.

A life of confetti paper littering the ground.

That is what grief feels like.

The past ten months, I have done what I knew to do: keep going. I did my job. I tried to focus. I fulfilled my commitments. I put on pants when others would have stayed home. I poured it out. All that action: I tried to fill the void. Not consciously, but the void Dan left, I tried to fill. 

...and now (instead), I am feeling it. I feel the void. I feel the emptiness. 

...and now, I am going to sit on the ground with my confetti life, and I am going to pay reverence to them. I am going to honor and recognize the love that has been poured into my life. 

For the foreseeable future, I am going to just sit with my bucket...and I am going to let God fill my soul with breath.

This is what healing looks like. This is what hope is.

What Grief Feels Like: (Like It Used to Be)

There are so many things I could write about with the amazing turnout for Donuts for Dan - but, I feel the need to write about what I am currently feeling. The reason why I write about my feelings is because I don't have a therapist. :) Writing about my feelings helps me process them: to think about, recognize, and voice them. Once I can give a voice to my feeling, I can release it. That feeling no longer has a hold on my mind or my heart.

Here's the deal with grief...or maybe my deal with losing Dan. It doesn't always feel real. I have had many people tell me that losing their spouse was like losing a limb - like losing a part of themselves. But, honestly, I haven't felt that. ...until now.

For the first seven months, I have felt the loss, yes - but not the loneliness.
I have described it as feeling held, loved - complete. I have felt so much this sense of being buoyed by hope. The waves may wash over me, but I am still floating on hope.

But now, I feel the ache of loss so much. All it took was for someone to see me - the woman not the widow...and in the wake of that reminder of what it feels like to be recognized as someone who is vibrant and vital...I feel like I have drifted farther out to sea. It brings to reality the fact that I had someone who saw me and loved me, someone to whom my presence brought life and light to their life...and the reminder that it is gone.

It super sucks.


I have written before that sometimes Dan speaks to me in song. He started this when we were dating - creating a playlist of (mostly) love songs for Valentine's Day 2010. The first time I listened through this playlist, I realized that these were the songs of Dan's heart for me. He wasn't the most romantic or verbally expressive - but, he had the gift of finding the right song for an occasion.

I thought that the 2 playlists he made for me were lost when my iPod didn't make the move from Arizona. My original iTunes account was connected to my iastate email; I forgot the password; I had a bunch of complications with my i-account when I got my iPhone 6...so, long complicated story short: I thought it was lost.

And in the last few months, I have lamented the fact that those movers stole my iPod and my Dan-playlists. But, the Sunday before Dan's birthday, I opened up my old computer and searched through folders of my songs saved from my iTunes account to salvage what I could find. One of the songs I'd bought (even before dating Dan) opened up in my iTunes account!

...and there were my 2 Dan playlists!

I spent the entire day listening to Dan's heart for me and making art. It was beautiful because I needed to be reminded.


Today, while I was working, one of the lines from a song from Bedroom Music 1 (it's such a Dan name for a playlist) kept playing in my head. "Baby, put on your favorite dress and just let go; we'll go downtown, stop at the first bar we see; yeah, we can throw it down, hot baby, just you and me."

I couldn't figure out why until I played it longer in my head: "we'll shoot the lights out, no one else can see - yeah, we'll close our eyes and wish it was like it used to be."  ...and that it is what grief sucks. As much as you know that life in the valley of the shadow of death is still life, and that it can be good, fulfilling, purposeful, hopeful, and loving - you just want to close your eyes sometimes and wish it was like it used to be.

I was never very good at dating or being single, but I'm pretty good at being a wife, and a friend, and a helpmate... Yes, maybe someday in this life I will be loved again and love again, but for now, I wish it was like it used to be.

Like it Used to Be - Randy Rogers Band

Eight Decembers ago, part 1

I'm not sure what triggered this thought this morning, but December is a pretty special month in the Dan & Jessica story. It's our love month. Meaning - this is the month that God did some pretty big miracles in our hearts to bring us together.

We met on April 29, 2008 at the AGR Graduation Party held at Outlaws (the "country" bar in Ames). So, depending on who you ask - we either met at a bar (Dan) or at a graduation party (me). Both are true. Dan asked me out that night - which was the first time I'd ever been asked out the first time someone met me - so I was immediately intrigued at this "decisive" person.

That summer we went on dates, but were...weird. Neither of us would have said that we were boyfriend/girlfriend, but this was the most consistently that I had gone on dates since 2004. (to be fair, I didn't date much) ...and on October 6, we had a very definite break-up talk. I cried while we talked, not because I really liked him - but because I really liked him. Meaning: I was going to miss him - not the idea of him (which is why I think a lot of us stick around with guys who are just "sort of" into us); I genuinely liked who he was as a person - and I would miss his presence in his life.

His response was, "Can't we still be friends?" (which is what he always did; go on a few dates and remain friends) And I said, "No, I don't think so. It doesn't work that way." (with my heart) But, God did a new work in my heart. I went to bed that night asking God to bring Dan back - if it was His will - when he was ready. Because the jist of our talk that night essentially was that Dan, recognizing that I was amazing (my words), but he didn't think his heart was in the same place mine was, and that I should be with someone who cherished that amazingness.

The new work that God did in my heart was - the next day, I was able to thank God for bringing Dan into my life - rather than being mad at God/Dan for not being "the one" - recognizing that God had finally brought someone into my life who recognized my worth, but who also respected my heart enough to not lead me on. And so, within 3 days, I realized that Dan and I could be friends. I let go of all fears and expectations - and just let him be...and decided to be more of me with him.

I had always wanted to be married, to be in a relationship. I often put that desire on a pedestal. When Dan and I first met, I wanted Dan to be "the one" because I wanted that relationship (not him, per se). When we want the relationship more than the person, we often will make little sacrifices of ourself - suppressing part of ourself because we might be too much or not enough - we might be rejected. For me, I didn't know how to be vulnerable with Dan. I didn't know how to trust him with my heart. I didn't know how to broach the subject of our different approaches to our faith life (Catholic vs. evangelical).

So, we broke up. God healed my heart. I started praying for "raspberry pie" (which happened to be Dan's favorite dessert - but I wasn't intentionally praying for Dan): i.e. the gift of God's grace which would be the perfect-for-me, yet surprise of a mate. [The weeekend before we broke up, I had been at a junior high retreat and the speaker gave the analogy that God's grace is like chocolate cake - which I found unappealing - so I replaced cake with raspberry pie. The raspberry pie analogy spoke to me as something I knew would love (because I love raspberries and I love pie), but had never had before.]
We had dinner the night of the election; he didn't come to my awesome 29th birthday celebration - and I didn't care because there were other guys I was also interested in there.

Then came Thanksgiving. I emailed him with an invitation to come with me to our church's Christmas play, Esmerelda (which I had previously been afraid to do when we were "dating"). He wrote me back the Sunday after Thanksgiving with a 3-paragraph response.

THREE PARAGRAPHS.

I knew that something had changed. [oh yes, I had also been praying since my birthday that God would do a miracle in Dan's life] I didn't know what, exactly...but something - because THREE PARAGRAPHS. [and yes, he agreed to come]

Two days later, I was musing to God wondering if this was all just me-sided (like I invite and he responds, but he wasn't really interested). Ten minutes after I asked God my question, Dan called inviting me to dinner that night. Ok...so, maybe not just me? 

That was December 2nd. We were going to go to Esmerelda on December 11 and agreed to have dinner beforehand. I learned that night that he was going to be in Ames on Christmas and thought, "I should invite him to our house; no one should be alone on Christmas." ...and then thought better of it because...awkward. I made the mistake of telling my mom this - who said, "You should invite him to our house; no one should be alone on Christmas." [I know Mom, but...awkward] 

What grief is like - the journey

[This quite accurately sums up all that I've been feeling in the last 6 weeks, I think. It's more of a poem, and while outside of my normal writing, I like it. I guess I needed to write this more than I thought I did. It was a journey for me, and fitting to end the way it does since it is All Saints' Day.]

What grief is like...

Currently, it feels like injustice.
...and injustice feels lonely.
That is not to say that I am alone. I am not.
I am surrounded by people I know love me and support me. I know that.

But, grief feels lonely.
To sob while your heart breaks,
deep, heaving sobs while sitting in your car
sitting at a stoplight trying to catch your breath

that is lonely.

To turn to the radio for cheer or comfort,
and hear a line like "your world's not falling apart,
it's falling into a place"
is like a fresh slap in the face
courtesy of your bright, shiny Christian station.

"stop holding on and just be held" is the new "let go."

Grief isn't simple. I wish it was.
I wish it was as simple as letting go and being held.
But, it's not. It's a knot.
A knot of love that is somehow a memory
A memory of love that once sweet tastes acrid in its wake

Where once, in the freshness of death, I could see clearly
The purpose of life, the purpose of love - it was all in its place
Now, the further we drift, the more fog overtakes me.
All I know is this life; how could I understand what it means to live in the wake of loss?
All I know is this earth; how can life exist when the love that was life is gone?

What I once knew, I do not know.
How to see God,
how to hear God,
how to find God in this darkness -
It is no longer clear.

The foolish sing of God's simplicity.
He is not so simple.
He is both / and. not either / or.
I understand the difference between cause and allow.
But, why does death lead to life -
but here, life feels so much like death?

What is grief? what is life?
and why do both feel like a grind?
wrung out
strung out
hung out to dry
tired of the try.

But still,
we rise.
we shine.
we press on.
we forge ahead.
we will it.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,
but sometimes, I crawl.
sometimes, I cannot stand, and I kneel.

The valley
of the shadow
of death:
it is dark.
But I fear not evil,
Your rod and your staff: power and might,
Your presence: Light.
You are with me.
So, the darkness trembles...

and I press on.
I forge ahead.
Thy will becomes my will.
Your saints surround me.
Your kingdom comes.

What to Say

Haven't we all been there? Someone we love is hurting, and we want to take away the pain, and we feel a deep need to say something but we suddenly have a keen awareness that nothing we can ever say will come close. The result:

*Silence.*

That had been my default. I realize now that I have stayed silent in the midst of some of my friends' personal tragedies because I knew my words could do nothing. [and if my words can do nothing, what do I have to give?] [and for that, my friends, I am sorry; I am sorry that I was absent from your time of pain because I was so focused on myself and my inability - that I failed to just come near and be a friend to you]

Two months walking in the valley of the shadow of death has taught me one thing:

the grieving do not expect your words to do anything.  

So, stop worrying about your words so much. 

The best thing that you can give to the grieving is ... your story of their person. 

Really.

Tell them your favorite memory; tell them how you met; tell them the impact he had on you no matter the length of time. ...and, if you don't have a story, you should ask them to share theirs. The grieving have a lifetime of memories that we never want to lose...and yet, we may not want to become "those people" who just keep bringing up the dead. [Note: I am going to be one of those people. Dan-stories - us-stories are my favorite. So, just suck it up, friends, and listen.] (also, I know you will; I'm "just saying.")

What I want to hear from people, especially now, is their story of Dan. ...and what I REALLY want most from people, especially now, is their story of us....because, I haven't just lost Dan; I've lost us. And, if you know me at all, you know that my deepest heart desire is that my life positively influence others - and that extends, especially, to my marriage.



If you attended Dan's funeral, you might remember Father Mark saying that the hardest times for me will be coming. When I say "especially now" - I mean, "especially now." The shock is finally starting to wear away; the feeling is coming back from the numbing impact of Dan's death. Many people have been processing the absence of Dan for two months - but, it is just now starting to settle into my reality.

...and it sucks.

So, I'm going to need more hugs than I did earlier. If I'm crying, just let me talk about whatever my feeling is at that moment that is making me cry - and do not feel any need to try to talk me through the feeling or reason with me. Just let me share the feeling while I cry. ...and those stories - share those stories, my people.

Jessica's random heart

Well, I'm about to ruin my mascara - and probably yours, so you're welcome in advance. [Why do I even wear mascara? It's just giving me a forewarning that I'll cry later in the day.]

I started a CaringBridge site for updates about Dan's health because we've finally embraced the fact that we are going to be moving forward with a bone marrow transplant (either a research trial (3rd party) or allopathic - from a donor - his sister). There will be lots of specific prayer requests that I will throw out at you, our fantastic support system. And, I hope you know that I don't say that as lip service; truly, every time you pray for us, we can feel it.

As I worked on just writing out our journey the last two years, I am honestly overwhelmed - overcome with emotions ranging from gratitude to shock that we haven't simply survived. In the midst of some crazy chaos, we have thrived; and, I think - well, I don't think - I know, it's because we know the Calm of the storm: it's Jesus.

When I think about just the past year and all that we have endured... I have no words. Shock and awe.

It took meeting with our bone marrow doctor ten days ago for us to finally realize that we have been living in a cycle of sickness for A LONG TIME...and that the transplant, while very scary, is our best option for breaking that cycle. For a while, I think we both thought that we could do it - we have done it for years...but, at what cost?

Many of you have commented over the year about my strength - and I thank you for that. I find strength from lots of you, and from Dan, and I have a model of great strength. My grandma Ellen cared for my grandpa Joe for 3 years while he was in kidney failure, and I don't know how she did it. Now that I have lived this journey, I have such profound respect for her. These are not easy tasks, but we do them because we can't imagine any other way. We don't know how to not do it, to not give, to not love, to not wear ourselves out in the caring for the person we love most.

While we certainly don't do it perfectly, and each day is its own battle with a cross to bear... we continue to press on because that is the way forward to life. We may cry, but that is where we find release. I find such healing from my tears. I am not ashamed to cry or to feel so deeply.

But creating this site was a really big deal for me, you guys. I'm admitting that this...this...is so much bigger, so much more serious than I live my life thinking. I kind of have this thought that these sites are only for the serious, life-threatening things...and to admit that this is where we are - damn, you guys! "I can't even" put it into words.

Also, I'm really quite disappointed that I can't customize the site more. The "cover page" (in facebook language) options are so super lame. What I WANT that part of the page to say is this because it's my mantra right now:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and God of all encouragement, who encourages us in our every affliction so that we may be able to encourage those who are in any affliction with the encouragement with which we ourselves are encouraged by God.

For as Christ's sufferings overflow to us, so through Christ does our encouragement overflow. If we are afflicted, it is for your encouragement and salvation; if we are encouraged, it is for your encouragement, which enables you to endure the same sufferings that we suffer. 

Our hope for you is firm, for we know that as you share in the sufferings, you also share in the encouragement.

This is what it's all about for me. In the last year, God has become so much closer, so much more tangible to me through this affliction and suffering. To think how far off from him I was then, and how much more there is of His heart for me to know...I am only on the far edge. I am closer than I was, but still so far from really grasping how wide, and high, and deep is the love of Christ Jesus for us.

I gather strength and encouragement from those who have walked the road of suffering and affliction before me; who have endured the pain of seeing their spouse suffer...they have given me strength to do this...and that will overflow into the hearts of those who walk with us. We are the body of Christ - and we must journey together if we are to find healing and wholeness.

Marriage Advice and Expectations

Well, on Sunday, we mark 5 years since saying, "I do" to the list of items we vowed to be together through. Not simply together, though; not simply by each other's side...but, to grow together - to become one through good and bad, rich and poor, sickness and health. As we close in on 5 years, I finally think I have some advice to offer. (Maybe.)



Some time after getting married, I read someone's blog post about marriage advice. She is a Christian woman whose opinion I respect, who'd been married for about 16 years at that time. She had been given this advice and she thought it quite apt: "Have no expectations."

I read that at a point where I was having some type of a struggle with this whole marriage-thing. Don't get me wrong - marriage is the best thing that has happened to me...but, there were times during our first 4 years that it also felt like the worst. Sometimes more of "the worst" than the best, to be honest. It seems so overused to say marriage is "the best hard thing" because sometimes the hard feels SO. HARD.

When I read that post, my first - and pervasive question was, "BUT HOW?" HOW do you have NO expectations? Isn't that the natural thing? To have expectations? To expect something? I just didn't get it. If you don't have expectations, why are you getting married? Don't you want to get something out of it?

...and that, is why the first four years were hard. Because I was way too focused on myself - and what I was getting out of this whole deal. How is this love?

Regarding expectations, I think the first thing a couple should do is examine the role their in-law plays in marriage. As a wife, what role does your mother-in-law take? That is going to be your husband's unspoken expectation of his wife. As a husband, what role does your father-in-law have? That is going to be your wife's unspoken expectation of you. ...and those unspoken expectations are some things that you, as a couple, will have to discuss and address, in your becoming one.

For us, our budget/bookkeeping brought this to light. We were on our honeymoon when our differing expectations started to come to light. After paying for our dinner, Dan handed me the receipt. I balked. What was I supposed to do with this? Why did I need this? He said, "Well, don't you want it, so you can keep track of it? For the budget?" Oh. I didn't realize that was going to be my job. I thought it would be his job!

The other area of expectations that you have to deal with is comparison to others' relationships. I struggled for a long time comparing Dan to my friends' husbands. It certainly wasn't helpful for my relationship with him. Who wants to feel like they don't measure up? In what way is this fair? Moreover, though, in what way is that love?

For me, the greatest lesson I have learned in marriage is how to love. Regarding expectations, I would advise that you currently have no idea how much you don't know how to love. You will be stretched. You will be tried. If you're doing it right, you will be broken. And, really, it's not you who will be broken - it's your expectations. It's your idea of love - and how you thought you were able to - maybe even good at - loving.

The greatest gift I have been given is an immensely patient, gentle, humble man, who is willing to stick with me through life. He isn't perfect; no. But, he has born my inadequacies, infirmities, insults. He loves me through them. He loves me. The greatest gift I have been given is the real experience of living the Sacrament. Marriage is a Sacrament because it's a revelation to the world of who Jesus is; how he loves us, and we love in return. When Dan has born my shortcomings and sins, and loves me anyway, that is a picture of how Jesus loves me. He tells me that I am more than what I do (or don't); I am more.

A lot of people mention the trial of this past year for us. To be honest, this was the best thing for us. I needed something major to snap me out of my self-serving spiral. Spiritually, I was out of touch with the love of God; keeping him at arm's length; afraid of getting too close; afraid of being changed too much; afraid of yielding control. God has saved me through this trial because he showed me how to LOVE Dan.

It's taken 5 years, but I am finally learning how to respect the man that Dan is, to love what he brings to the table - and together we figure out how to overcome our faults. It's taken this life-altering event for us to recognize the gift that each day is, and the gift that each day we have together. Marriage is one of the greatest gifts that we are given - if you are ready to be emptied of yourself and to love another as more than yourself.

⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
⁸ Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. ⁹ For we know in part and we prophesy in part, ¹⁰ but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. ¹¹ When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. ¹² 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.
¹³ And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.  
[1 Corinthians 13]

To my twenty-somethings...

Well, the time has come for me to write this post. I’ve been teaching a course focused on professional development for juniors and seniors for the past 6 weeks; I’ve advised college students for nearly 5 years; I’ve informally advised my TRIO kids as they progressed through college for 13 years. AND I’ve lived my own life. So, the time has finally come for this announcement:

NO DECISION YOU MAKE IS REALLY GOING TO SCREW YOUR LIFE UP THAT MUCH.

So, Beloved Student, just STOP. STOP with the freaking out already. STOP with the posts about panic attacks and how “grown-ups” just don’t understand the pressure you’re under. STOP ruining college by obsessing over the things that don’t matter – like every point you miss. Because why? You are missing the point.

1)      The point of college – of your freakin’ life, actually – is to LEARN. It is to GROW. To be a better person tomorrow than you are today. So you know what? No one actually expects you to have it all together? None of us expect you to know it all – and we’d like it if you would actually chill out and listen to us when we try to talk you off the ledge.

So, the next time that you miss a point because you didn’t read directions that clearly, just own it – and don’t do it next time. The next time that you get a 2.5 (or C+) on a test that you thought you understood, go to office hours and ask your professor or TA to show you what you missed. Explain to them how you understood to do it – and then pay attention to the example they give – and notice the gap from what you did to what they did.

That gap that you just noticed? That’s where learning can take place now. When you address the “dissension” between what you thought and the reality/right version is where learning can take place.

All those reflection papers you have to do about the process? Again, that is to help you acknowledge learning. The person you are at the end of the semester should be different from the beginning because you have discovered more about yourself. Processing how your writing, speaking, application of information has improved recognizes the growth – learning – that has taken place.

2)      More schooling does not help you know what you want to do with your life. If you’re not employable with a BS, what makes you think an MS will make you employable? Being employable is about experience, skills, and talents. So, get out of the library and get some experience!

3)      Your elders – parents, bosses, professors, advisors – are not unreasonable, unfeeling monsters that lack an understanding of just how “real” “the struggle is.” I. GET. IT.

I vividly remember telling my mom as a 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, and 29-year-old just how much SHE did not understand what it was like to be my age and have no idea where your life was going. Truthfully, her life was very different from mine. She married at 22, and a lovely, delightful daughter at 23 – and, to me, her life was just pretty settled after that. I don’t know that my mom ever struggled with the feelings of restlessness and unease, anxiety and doubt, like I did. Because, you know what? She made a choice and she lived it. She didn’t obsess about the goodness or badness of her decision. I imagine that she reasoned if she was really on the wrong path, God would make it abundantly clear to her.

I remember, as a 23-year-old, feeling desperate in my singleness – alone and wondering how I would ever meet that person – having dinner with an older (read: 29 or maybe 33) single person, and wondering how in the world this person could be so content. It seemed to me that would be the end of the world. (hahaha, God. I was 31 when I got married and the timing seemed just fine then)

So, I can’t speak for all the adults in your life, but I do “get it.” I completely understand the turbulent twenties, and that is why I write this post. If I could go back and tell myself one thing, it would be this:

Eliminate RIGHT or WRONG from your life plans.

The “right” college? Is a college that fits your interest and has your major.

The “right” major? Is a major that you enjoy learning about and prepares you to get a job.

The “right” job? Is a job that pays you a living wage and allows you to contribute to society (oh and benefits are a plus, too). Preferably that job is in your field – but it doesn’t have to be. It’s okay. You can get a job for a tech company and be an animal science grad – and still be engaged in the animal world.

I obsessed so much over doing the right thing and wondering if it was what God really wanted for me…and much of the time, I believe His response to me was: you have a vast space that I’ve put you in. I’ve given you talents and desires; I’ve give you My Word to guide you and My Spirit to direct you. If you are in line with me, feel freedom to choose.

If the decision you are about to make really matters to the outcome of your life – and you are about to go contrary to where that is: God will let you know.

There are many examples of God intervening in individuals’ lives throughout the Bible and lives of the saints in dramatic fashion. In one instance so far, God has also done this for me.

It was February 2008 and I was ready for a change – career change, mostly. I was 27, had just finished as Iowa MAEOPP President, and really had gotten a sense for my ability to accomplish real work. I started to get a sense not only of my calling, but of my desire to be more than what I’d thought in college.

At the beginning of January, I started reading [Journey of] Desire by John Eldredge. The premise of this book is to realize that the desires you’ve “always” had, your natural talents – those are gifts from God. You have been created in Christ Jesus for good works – and those don’t require you to divorce yourself from your self to be from God. This was a revelation from me. You mean the things that I’d always desired – to be married, to be involved in the ag community, to help others enact their potential – those could be good? Those could be used by God? He gave them to me?  Whoa. [When I was becoming Catholic, I realized this part of the beauty of the incarnation of Jesus as man.]

Fast forward to mid-February. I had a job interview to be an Upward Bound Director in Minneapolis on the 12^th; interviews for assistantships at the Ohio State University’s Student Personnel graduate program (or whatever the full name is) on the 14/15^th; interviews for Iowa State University’s Educational Leadership & Policy Studies’ assistantships. BIG deals. BIG game-changers for my life path.

One night, I woke up around 3am and could not get back to sleep. Try as I might, sleep evaded me. So, I decided to pray. I prayed for EVERYONE and everything I could think of (except my upcoming interviews), and still no sleep.

“God! Why can’t I sleep?” I demanded. I had the prompting of a thought: “What do you have coming up this week, Jessica?”

“Well, I have these 3 interviews….”

Then, this vision popped in my head:

I was in a hallway with 3 large, heavy, wooden doors – closed – in front of me. I knew what each door represented, what was behind them – and I could sense just how heavy and how closed they were.

“What would you like?”

“Ugh. I don’t know, God! Show me which one to go through!”

“Jessica, if you knew the One who was showing you these, who had the power to…”

Then, I saw it: a window appeared beside the doors. But, the window – though also closed – I could see through to a field basking in full sunlight; rolling, golden-green hills. I knew: this was my desire. This was what I really wanted. And, this could only be mine if opened by God. Only God could make this window into an open door.

“Open the window, God! God, I want you to open the window!” I cried out pleadingly.

Like that, the vision was gone. It was 5am. I was wide awake and full of energy. I knew that I would go to each of those interviews – but I would not be choosing them. I didn’t know exactly what I would be choosing – but within a day, I did. I chose to get a Master of Science in Ag Ed with an emphasis on Extension.

If I had gone to Minneapolis or Columbus, it is highly unlikely that I would be where I am today. If I had done ELPS, I don’t think I would have been happy in what I learned. I truly love learning about learning – and teaching to engage learning. ...and, who knows if I would have met Dan?

In Dan’s life, he had a similar redirection – but not quite as spiritual. He was all set to go to grad school at Colorado State and study meat science. ONE WEEK before he was to move to Fort Collins, Dr. Hogberg called and offered him the Graduate Shepherd assistantship – and he came to Iowa State instead.

So, my dear young friends: when God needs to change your path, HE WILL.

Until then, go forward with some confidence that if life was a series of do or die decisions, He would give you a blueprint. Remember that He is a loving God; He isn’t cruel. As my dad said once, “If you are faced with a series of choices – and none seem to be closed, and none are out-of-line with His plan (outlined in the Bible), and none are immoral – then, God is allowing you to use your God-given intellect and freedom to choose. So, choose with confidence.”

Lastly, I would love to urge you to find joy in this time of life.  Personally, I worried so much about how my life would turn out at times, and if I could speak this truth to me, I would. Would I have believed this sage advice? Probably not. Some things, I am unfortunately hell-bent on learning MY way – through experiencing all the feelings, and feeling all the bumps in the road – until I let God shine some light upon my understanding.

But, 14 years after being a senior in college with no life plan after August: I now see that what God has guaranteed us is this moment (and eternity). So, find the lesson in this moment. Feel the feelings – and then find the peace and the joy only found in the presence of Jesus – and just live this present circumstance.

…and above all, ENJOY COLLEGE. At the very least, listen to your friend who wants to take you out for your 21^st birthday even when you have a final the next day. That’s what college memories are made of. Right, Pam?

Hold On Loosely

Remember that song from 38 Special? 'Hold on loosely, but don't let go; if you cling too tightly, you're gonna lose control?'

As I've thought about adjusting to life post-diagnosis, this has been the phrase that replays. On the big drive, the verses from James 4 about saying, "You should say, 'If the Lord wills, we will go here & do this' - for what is your life? Do you know what will happen today or tomorrow?'" [my paraphrase] 

I don't know about you, but since getting married, I've become quite the planner. I like having a general idea about where we're headed and how we'll make it happen to get there. I have become a strategizer. I have become a bit of a control freak. ...and, honestly, I have become very self-reliant, independent - I haven't needed God to make my life happen. It's like operating on auto-pilot. Deep down, I knew I wasn't living life the way I needed to...while things were fine...life just didn't feel...fulfilled? I don't know; perhaps it was empty, in spite of being so full.

Seven weeks into our new life, I feel very much like a different person. Even in spite of living through this trial, I feel more alive. My relationship with Jesus - and with Dan - is so much deeper, and more full of purpose, love, light, than it has been. 

Life after our first chemo treatment was almost normal. The first two weeks were great. The side effects were minimal; Dan was able to carry on his work - and judging practices - just like 'normal'. There was one day with a low fever, but we were able to manage it with Tylenol and it was gone within a day. It was going so well that I made a trip back to Iowa for a few days. 

...and then the shoe dropped. Tuesday morning, we got ready for work. Dan came in and said he felt a little nauseous, a little achey, and couldn't stop shaking. He just wanted to sleep, but didn't have a fever. I got home from work that night and it was 103.4. After consulting the oncologist on call at UM, we came to the ER in Lansing.

The nice thing about having cancer is that you don't spend any time waiting with the rest of the sick people and you get in pretty fast. By the time, we checked in, the temp was 100.3, and 3 hours later, it was normal. However, being an 'at risk' patient, they wanted to keep an eye on Dan. 

...and now, five days later...it looks as though we will get to check out today. The official diagnosis is sinusitis. The symptoms look a lot like every time Dan gets sick - but, the docs have worked really hard to get this under control - and have done a great job. Our team has been great - and we now have a primary care provider for Dan here in Lansing (and right on campus!). 

It's pretty easy to find the silver linings. Dan is getting an idea about his boundaries, but now the challenge for him is figuring out how to make sure his team gets the guidance he wants them to have - without putting himself at too much risk. What he really needs is an assistant coach (for those on our prayer team who want specific things to ask for - ask for this!). 

We work in a wonderful, supportive department. We're close to family and friends who have stopped in. 

But, I will admit. Day 3 was HARD. HARD. Coming in that morning, I felt so frustrated, abandoned, lonely. It seemed, at that point, like more of the same - like being in Houston, again. So, early in the morning, feeling so sad/dejected, I said to Dan, "let's pray." On Fridays, the mysteries of the Rosary are the Sorrowful - Jesus in the Garden, Jesus being flogged, Jesus crowned with thorns, Jesus carrying the cross, Jesus' death. 

Last weekend, my sister-in-law and I were talking about suffering; she had mentioned something about the cross, and I joked, "yeah; just offer it up?" And she said, "No, sometimes, the point is to just sit with him in the sorrow." 

On Friday, as we poured out our frustrations, our requests, and the things were thankful for before beginning, my mother-in-law called. As Dan talked to her, I just sat there, and entered into each mystery. Imagining myself there with Jesus, I sat with him in the Garden as he struggled with his sorrow, hugged his cross...and just remained. When we did finish praying the rosary, His peace had entered into my emptiness. [and the meeting with the doctors that day was far more promising!]

About prayer, C.S. Lewis said something to the point that it doesn't change God, it changes us. It very much does that. We are transformed by the presence of Christ - and when we are transformed, it can transform every part of our lives. Your prayer may not change God's will - but, your will can be changed to be more in line with His - and isn't that better? 

To attempt to bring this post to a close, here's my point: it's only through prayer that I am able to 'hold on loosely.' Our plans this week got totally up-ended. This was 'supposed to be' Chemo Round 2 week. Here's what I am quickly learning: let go of the 'supposed to'. Hold on loosely to the schedule. 

And also: wash your hands. 

And another thing: when you see people wearing a mask - it's because YOU are the walking germ-bomb not them. We all give those people a wide berth and usually think we don't want what they've got; it's the other way around - they don't want what you've got. So, if you see Dan wearing a mask in the next few months, it's for his protection - so he can carry on with business. 

[also, he shaved his head, and is looking quite handsome, if I do say so myself]

[the other plus side - I've figured out how to get to the hospital; 'discovered' a lovely little restaurant close to the hospital (okay, my bro & sis-in-law highly recommended it first), AND a local chocolatier right next to it - with killer sugar-free dark chocolate peanut butter cups and milk chocolate peanut clusters (for Dan)]

Surrender

The Gospel readings this week started on Sunday with those who'd been hanging out with Jesus saying, "Lord, this is a hard teaching!" That theme carries through the week.

On Monday, the young man asks Jesus what he must do to gain eternal life. Jesus instructs him to keep the commandments; 'all this I have done; what must I do to be perfect?' Jesus replies, 'Sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will be perfect.' He went away sad because he was very rich.

Tuesday, we have the classic 'rich man vs. camel' parable.Yesterday, the parable of the vineyard owner who gives everyone a job and pays them all the same wage - regardless of how much/little they worked. Today, the king gives a wedding feast where the invited guests fail to show up, so everybody gets an invite with one condition: wear the clothes I give you.

For years, I have heard these parables and read them, and often thought, "I don't get it." or "this doesn't apply to me, I'm not rich." Tuesday, as we drove to our day's appointments, we listened to some different meditations on the readings (via the Laudate app - it's free, and I HIGHLY recommend it; I use it every day). One meditation focused on the question, "What are you carrying?"

"What are you carrying, dear Jessica? What burdens you so, today?"

Immediately, I pictured this in my head: me, struggling to carry Dan.

Dan has this game that he likes to play: the "I passed out & you try to get me to safety" game. I don't know how, but he is able to make his whole body just go heavy and he makes try to move him. It is impossible. Then he laughs and says things like, "if I passed out on you, you would move me like that?" And I tell him it's a stupid game and not funny and we shouldn't 'play' at things like that.

And that was this picture: me with all the weight of Dan upon me trying to move forward...but finding that I could not; that the weight, the burden was too much for me.

What do you need to give me so that you can walk? What burden do you need to surrender to my care?

But, Dan? Didn't you give him to me? You want me to let go?

Well, dear one, how are you doing with that? Does he enjoy being carried much? 

Well, no. He wants to walk his path.

So, does your effort to carry a man who can walk - and wants to walk...is it helping either of you?

Well, no. But, I want to help him. I don't want him to have to do this alone. I want to keep him from as much pain as possible.

I know you do; and I gave you the heart of a helper - and he is not alone. I am with him; you are next to him - but this path, you cannot walk for him. He must walk his path; you must walk yours. You cannot carry him, but I can. And, dear one, let me take this heaviness, so that you can walk beside him. Because, let's be honest, right now, you aren't getting anywhere but frustrated.

Yes. Yes, you are right. Oh God, help me to trust you. Help me to trust you with my most precious cargo.

Dear one, your beloved is my son, too. As dear as you are to me, and he is to you - so, he is to me. I know this road does not make sense, but trust that I will make this path straight. Trust that this path will bring about a greater glory than either of you can imagine. I do not promise easy, but I promise you will find LIFE. Do you believe that?

Yes, Lord.

Truly I say to you, it will be hard for one who is burdened [rich] to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again, I say to you that it will be easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is burdened to enter the kingdom of God. 

I picture it like the entrance is only big enough for me...and if Dan is in my arms, we can't fit. That doesn't mean Dan doesn't get in - it just means that I can't bring him. He must choose of his own accord...and he must enter alone.

When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished and said, “Who then can be saved?”Jesus looked at them and said, “For men this is impossible, but for God all things are possible.” 

It is a hard teaching to swallow; it is an act of faith to surrender the ones you love, the identity you cling to for purpose and definition. Why is it faith? You trust that you will receive it back, that what comes next could be better, even if the road is hard. You trust that the One who calls you is faithful and will do just what He says He can & will do.

Thank God for Peter asking that question, we then all wonder as we take this step of faith:

Then Peter said to him in reply, “We have given up everything and followed you. What will there be for us?” 

Jesus said to them, “Amen, I say to you that you who have followed me, in the new age,when the Son of Man is seated on his throne of glory, will yourselves sit on twelve thrones,judging the twelve tribes of Israel. 

And everyone who has given up houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands for the sake of my name will receive a hundred times more, and will inherit eternal life.But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”

[Matthew 19:23-30]

What I have feared has come upon me

This line from Job 3, perfectly sums up my reaction to Dan's diagnosis. When the hematologist at Mayo confirmed to us that Dan had a blood disorder which had become lymphoma, my fears were confirmed. Just a few days earlier, I had said to a friend at work, "I just really hope it's not cancer because cancer is scary; people die from cancer."

And isn't that our fear? Isn't that why we would wish, "anything but that?"

In those first moments in the room, while I cried and Dan held me (I'm not sure that he cried)...it was the confirmation of the fear. The scary thing had come upon us. It was here. This thing that I've pondered before, "I wonder how those people got through that"...now, I was that person.

The first thing I said to Dan in that exam room was this: "From this point now, everything is new. We are new. Everything from the past; all those expectations that we may have had in getting married to each other, those are dead and gone. We are new; today we move forward in a new life - a new purpose."

While going up to the appointment that day, Dan said to me, "I don't think your life is better since you married me. I think my life is better - but I think that I have not delivered my end." I shared with him that in perfect honesty, I don't even know what my expectations were 4 years ago; in coming to peace with living in Tucson, I think I started to let go of expectations. Though, I hadn't let go entirely of all expectations; it is certainly no secret that I long to be a mom - and I have been mad at God, and yes, frustrated with Dan, that we are childless.

In that room, I realized that with cancer treatment (though we still do not know what our plan will be), fertility is often compromised/lost. I wanted Dan to know that I would never hold that against him. What he needed to know is that we are in this fight together; we are one - and God is with us. All things are new. Our expectation of today is that God has given us life & breath in this moment, and we will live in worship of Him for his gift. It is time to live our baptismal promise: to walk forward in this life in newness of life.


I called my mom shortly, crying...sobbing as I voiced my fears to her. She cried with me, and I could feel her longing to hold her child. I confessed to her that I had no idea how to proceed - how to call people...because I desperately wanted people to not just know, but to pray. But the thought of having heart-wrenching conversation after conversation was just too much. So, she promised to take care of that. Then, she shared with me a verse that had been on her heart that day from Joshua: "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and take heart; the Lord your God goes before you - and He will fight for you."

These words were like sweet nourishment to my parched soul. I shared that I had been in a drought of faith; skeptical of God's interest. ...and I reached out - and clung to these words for all the hope  that they contained; with all the faith that I could muster, "Yes, God; PLEASE, I beg of you; PLEASE, out of your great mercy - FIGHT FOR US. PLEASE, though I am the least of your faithful ones, PLEASE, FIGHT FOR US."

At this very moment, Dan had run into one of our friend's parents in the Mayo hospital lobby. This is just one of the many "God-moments" of providential 'coincidence'. He had told them of his new diagnosis, and as I walked up to them - she spoke, what I believe, prophetic words of hope for us:

Pray the rosary daily; ask our mother for help; her love is so great.

To Dan: I know that you have faith, that you believe - but through this, your faith will become active - loud, alive, vocal. It won't be something you keep to yourself anymore. You will share your story. Glory in your story; God is using this to bring redemption! This will be the end of your constant sickness. Complete healing will come.

You can't do your job the way you want to - a good job, if you aren't well. You must focus on your health.

To us: This will be the crowning glory of your marriage. [looking at me] This is your baby, right now. [then she asked, 'Do you have children?' I shook my head no (probably with tears in my eyes) and she said:] But, a baby will come - lots of babies. This is not the end. This is the beginning of your story. 

 

 

A very good place to start

For our friends in blogland/Facebook who haven't heard, last Tuesday (July 28), Dan was diagnosed with EBV-related T-cell lymphoma. Last Tuesday was also the day that our house was loaded up and shipped to Michigan. Last Tuesday was also the day that we were to get started on our northeastern journey.

Since the diagnosis, I have meant to start writing about my thoughts, prayers, feelings, etc. Many of you have asked that we keep you informed, and I intend to do so.

The thing is, I don't know where to start. I feel like July 28 was eons ago...and, yet...it was just eleven days.

So, I guess, let's get you caught up on our lives. The last thing I wrote about was Dan's hospitalization in Houston in mid-March.

At the beginning of the week, I was so confident that we were going to leave Houston with answers. Instead, we just left with more questions. A list of doctors to follow up with in Tucson... ...and in Tucson, Dan had appointment after appointment after appointment. None came up with answers - none even seemed interested in finding answers - just "come back in 6 months." By then, I was fed up with that answer.

Dan mentioned to our primary care doc about going to Mayo after being diagnosed with an ear infection toward the beginning of May. He told us we could certainly go, but didn't seemed convinced that we really needed to.

So, in mid-May, I filled out the online form for Mayo's self-referral. Dan was scheduled for an appointment on June 17. (a month later)

Toward the beginning of May, Dan was invited to apply for the Academic Coordinator position with the Institute of Agricultural Technology/Animal Science at Michigan State University. Part of his duties would include coaching the livestock judging team, teaching, and advising the ag tech students in livestock management. While Dan has many dreams, being able to be part of the team at MSU would definitely fit into one. For us, it would allow us to be close to family - to become part of their lives, to watch our niece and nephews grow. The one thing that Tucson just really didn't provide for us.

Dan interviewed for the MSU job on June 12. He was offered the job on the 19th. He accepted by the 22nd. Our plans for a move just 5 weeks later started in earnest.

Dan's first appointment at Mayo was with an ENT specialist due to all the sinus infections he'd been having. During that visit what she noted (that I remember) was that she didn't think Dan was having sinus infections and 2) that Dan's case was definitely a complex one - and we should have had a longer appointment. She wanted us to see an immunologist and didn't think a visit to a hematologist was necessary.

The next week, I think he had 1 or 2 appointments at May for different tests - blood work, biopsies, CT scans. (honestly, the weeks have blurred together for me) During the first week of July, he went up to Mayo 3 times. On July 11, we met with an immunologist who said that we didn't need to see him, we needed a hematologist. But, we couldn't get one until September...so, that obviously wasn't going to work. He also lectured Dan on the importance of not going to Michigan, and instead staying to focus on his health. Also, this doctor gave Dan a pneumonia vaccine...and he proceeded to have a weekend of fevers [because he doesn't have an immune system that can support this type of 'assault' - although the doctors didn't know that at this time]

On July 14, we met with an ENT surgeon who was going to remove a lymph node and a mass behind the lymph node. At that time, we were feeling super frustrated with Mayo because we felt like we were getting the run around. NOW, (hindsight being 20/20 and all) we see that they were running a hell of a lot of tests in a hell of a short period of time. At that time, the ENT team on Dan's case thought that perhaps Dan has an immunological disorder and this biopsy would help reveal that.

On July 14, we left Arizona for 6 days in Iowa where Dan was judging my county fair. While there, Dan met with my parents' chiropractor. Besides being a chiropractor, I think the best way to describe her is a 'healer.' Her assessment of Dan's health was right on with what his doctors' had been finding. Later that week, I met with her - and I daresay that her work on my emotional state has been one of the things that has allowed me to get through the last 11 days. In my meeting with her, she told me that Dan's systems are essentially "maxed out."

Dan's surgery was July 21. We ended up missing our flight out of Omaha on July 20...which caused a series of events that ended up with us spending the night in Dallas. While at the hotel in Dallas, I couldn't sleep...I was so nervous about the state of Dan's health, and honestly, afraid.

Now, for me, up until this point...I was just so angry. And, to be honest, this anger kept me from God. I just didn't feel like he cared. I felt abandoned. I felt like I was the only one who saw, who heard, who cared.

And that night, I couldn't sleep. I was wracked with anxiety. I got up to read - and I knew that instead I needed to pray. But, I felt like I was so far from God - and that He just simply couldn't understand the agony of knowing something is wrong with a beloved one. So, knowing I needed to obey this urge to pray, I started praying the rosary. It was Tuesday - the day of Sorrowful mysteries (for the non-Catholics, that's the passion of Jesus)...and immediately, I was in tears knowing she could identify with my fears. ...and, I slept.

That morning while flying first class to Phoenix, God revealed to me the role that I had in Dan's healing. For the first time in months, I believed that God was going to work about healing in Dan's life - a revitalization that we haven't yet witnessed. A fried of mine had been telling me that she saw Dan whole and healthy in Michigan - and, honestly, I couldn't share her hope at the time. I wanted it to be true, but was so skeptical that it could be. On that plane, I believed it could be possible.

The tumor that they removed from Dan's throat was about a square inch and was residing on the nerve in Dan's neck. Because of its placement, the surgery took twice as long - but the surgeon removed it masterfully.

That following Monday when we met with the surgeon (that, by the way, was the day that our entire house was packed up), it was apparent that she was very concerned. I am so thankful to God for her concern because she was able to get an appointment THE NEXT DAY with a hematologist. (which seems unheard of with Mayo) She didn't really fully grasp the report, but impressed upon us the importance of being seen by a hematologist at the University of Michigan (a research hospital) and not at a local hospital. We left her office thinking that Dan had either a blood disorder or lymphoma.

The next day, all our stuff was to be loaded into a semi; into our car and pick-up, and we'd give the ol' "Sayonara!" to Tucson. It was hot. We had a bunch of crap still not done from our need to leave the house Monday to get to the surgeon appointment. The movers packed up things they shouldn't have (and not what what they should have, we found out later)...and I was an emotional mess. We got everything packed up due to my sacrificial in-laws who ventured to Tucson on Monday in order to help us drive Dan's truck to Michigan, and my awesome best-friend, Anne Marie.

However, we got on the road to the hematologist late (and this time it wasn't my fault). So, I suggested we call Mayo to let them know. So, Dan does...and the receptionist says they cancel all appointments that are 10 minutes late. We will be at least 15 - maybe 20 minutes late. Dan tells her this is his only chance and he MUST meet with the doctor that day because he is leaving town. She said she'd call him back after talking to some people.

At this point, I have my "last" pissed off breakdown. I yelled at the injustice of it all; I hit my almost-empty water bottle against the steering wheel...and then, I did something that I hadn't done much of, lately, I asked God to get us in, to let us see that doctor.

...and Dan called again. ...and the receptionist said that whenever we would get there, the doctor would see us.

Thank you, Jesus.

...and the turning point begins here.

#fightfearwithfaith