Becoming Desperate

From my journals Feb 2017-Nov 2019

The woods were quiet and cold. But my heart was beating wildly and my temples were throbbing. I couldn’t even form thoughts or words to pray. The day had taken such a drastic turn and I was reeling with uncertainty. Part of me wanted to keep running into the woods. I wanted to hide deep in the forest and sob my heart out. I wanted to run away from the thing I feared but a large part of me was clinging to hope and I found my feet dragging me back to the cabin. Cell service was spotty and I knew I needed to be near the clearing if I was going to regain access to updates. I was refreshing my phone, my eyes glued to the little blue messenger app. Along with hundreds of other dear people, I was holding my breath and waiting for God to perform a miracle.

The day had started so peacefully. I was on a girls weekend retreat at a cabin in the northern woods with my mom, my dear friend Natalie and a few other women. February is a tough month for all of us in Michigan. It is usually gray, dreary, and bitter cold and this year my living situation was making me extra stir crazy. A few ladies had planned this little get away as a chance to get refreshed and to pray and I was thankful to tag along. One of our mutual friends, Nicole, had recently been diagnosed with cancer and we were all feeling the heaviness and desire to be together in prayer. The fire was burning brightly in the fireplace, I was knitting on a prayer shawl for Nicole, everyone was chatting about the day ahead. A few ladies began to do hair and makeup while they relaxed in the warmth of the cabin.

It honestly still feels like a nightmare. The type where you are screaming but no noise is coming out and running without moving. Someone’s phone went off in the background and no one paid much attention until she gasped, “Her blood pressure isn’t being regulated.” We all stopped talking and looked around. I was confused but I could feel the fear creeping into my heart despite my lack of understanding. Over the next several hours we gathered on the floor, walked through the woods praying in groups, and huddled on the kitchen floor. Nicole’s heart had stopped beating twice and twice it had started again. Somehow over the course of one day, her condition had deteriorated to the verge of life and death. The cancer treatments, which had been given a very high success rate, were doing more harm than good and the doctors were scrambling. The quiet cabin in the northern woods felt so far away from the hospital and yet I felt so face to face with my fears, so unable to run and hide. The snow was still falling around us as my friend and I set out for another walk. The mood in the cabin was nearing despair and I couldn’t handle it anymore. God had to heal her! She needed to be here for her three little kids.

We walked, prayed, cried, and walked some more. At some point, I grabbed my camera and found myself taking pictures of the world around me. Maybe it was habit, maybe it was a way to try to cope, but I saw everything so vividly that afternoon. Being away from the hushed voices in the cabin made me feel more confident that God was going to heal Nicole. I saw the fresh snow and the beauty of the woods and it felt like God was near. My phone vibrated and my hands shook as I pulled it out of my coat pocket. “She is coding again… pray for Mark”. The signal to my phone went out again and my numb legs started running.  No, no, no. Where could I go? What should I do? Lord, start her heart again. Keep it beating. Where do I go?

I was running frantically in circles still holding my phone in my hand. I didn’t feel the cold in my fingers or on my face, I needed a signal. Reluctantly I started running back to the cabin. I was still holding my breath with my eyes constantly checking my screen when I arrived back to where women on the steps were waiting for me. My phone hadn’t updated yet but they quickly told me the update. Nicole’s heart had been started again but the doctors were not hopeful.

Who cares what the doctors think, they aren’t God! They don’t know our God! It’s going to be fine, her heart is beating again.

The ladies were rushing around the cabin and I soon discovered the plan was to leave before it got too much later. It was already getting dark and they feared being trapped at the cabin if the snow continued to fall through the night. I jammed my clothes in my bag and offered to drive one of the vans. I needed to DO something. I felt so helpless. I couldn’t prepare for the worst. The worst was unspeakable. Our little caravan started the trek home and I was thankful to focus on the snowy road. I was following the other van so navigating didn’t require much brain power. My heart was still throbbing when all of our phones dinged at the same time. I snapped out of my daze. “She’s gone home. Nicole is with Jesus.” My mom read the words out loud choking back tears. The rage started at my toes and flowed through my body. I shouted words I don’t remember while hitting the steering wheel. No, no, no that can’t be true! What about her heartbeat starting again three times? What about her kids and her husband and the success rate of the treatments?! What about God being the healer? Silence rang around me. The van I was following pulled off the road at a gas station and everyone piled out. We met in the middle of the cold night and met in a giant hug of sobs and tears. This wasn’t how the story was supposed to end. This wasn’t how it should have been written.

_____

The funeral slideshow was rolling. MercyMe’s “Even If” was playing in the background. Four weeks after her newborn photoshoot in my living room, I was staring at the photos I had taken of my friend Nicole with her babies. I never wanted to see them displayed like this. They were supposed to be Ella’s newborn photos and updated family pictures, not the last family photos I’d take of them.

“It’s easy to sing

When there’s nothing to bring me down

But what will I say

When I’m held to the flame

Like I am right now”

I clenched my fist as the slideshow continued. Happy photos of Nicole’s beautiful smile kept sending pangs through my heart as the words of the song got harder to hear. Each line left me with more questions than answers.

“I know You’re able and I know You can”

God you could have, but why didn’t you

“Save through the fire with Your mighty hand”

The fire won. What happened?

“But even if You don’t

My hope is You alone”

God I think my hope is in you. I thought my hope was in you. But I feel shaken and abandoned. It feels so dark.

“They say it only takes a little faith

To move a mountain

Well good thing

A little faith is all I have, right now”

I don’t even know if I have a little faith.

“But God, when You choose

To leave mountains unmovable

Oh give me the strength to be able to sing

It is well with my soul”

I can’t sing this right now, but help me someday to be able to sing it.

“I know the sorrow, and I know the hurt

Would all go away if You’d just say the word

But even if You don’t

My hope is You alone”

I feel the sorrow and I feel the hurt right now, you feel so far away.

“You’ve been faithful, You’ve been good

All of my days

Jesus, I will cling to You

Come what may”

Cling to me because I cannot even cling to you.

_____

Nicole’s passing wasn’t the first time death had come into my life but it felt more excruciating than I remembered. I was trying to understand what had happened and questioning God at every turn. Most of those early weeks were spent sitting sullenly at my job, driving home at the end of the day to sit gloomily on my couch looking out at the dark, gray world. Xav bought flowers and sat with me. On Sundays we would get up extra early and go to the Hamlins house to help get the kids ready for church. Every couple weeks, we would go for dinner to play video games and have Nerf battles with them. In between Rockband songs, Mark would pull up old photos of Nicole on the TV and the kids would squeal, “Mama!” My heart broke for them over and over. People kept saying that the kids were too young to understand, but in some ways that almost made it worse. They’d ask when Mama was coming back and beg to go see her at the hospital.

Often, while I was stuck at work, I’d think about Luke, Olivia, and Ella and wonder what their lives would be like. I wanted to know the whole story and to make God tell me why He wrote it like this. I felt like it wasn’t fair and I knew my heart was becoming bitter. It all seemed so unjust. The fact that it had happened in February seemed even more cruel. February had long been my least favorite month and it took on yet another painful edge.

What I learned after Nicole’s death in the February of 2017 was that unprocessed grief doesn’t just disappear. My fresh grief reopened old wounds from all the previous losses and added layers of complexity. Instead of just facing sorrow and loss, this time I felt more suffocated and angry. I wasn’t able to put on a happy mask or force my feelings into a box. The ‘what if I lose my spouse’ fear that had plagued me after our honeymoon came rushing back in. Where was God? Why didn’t I feel hopeful? I felt myself becoming bitter and I didn’t even care anymore.