Climbing out of the Pit

In my last post, I described the exhilarating celebration of watching my dad take his last earthly breath, knowing his following breath would be in heaven.  It was clearly the best high of my life.  Words will never be able to explain that moment.  It's true though, in the five months that have followed, my family has deeply ached over his absence.  I am extremely grateful for friends and family who have gone out of their way to make us meals, write cards, clean our house, visit and pray with us.  I will admit though, that even with an abundance of blessing and grace from people, I still have many moments of feeling like I am  living in a deep pit, not knowing how to climb out.  In these moments not even Dan is able help.  It is through these times though, the only way I know to keep moving is by reading God's word, listening to music, and praying.  Sometimes I'm inspired by the Bible, music and prayer; other times I'm dead in the head and feel nothing.  But I haven't stopped pursuing Christ through it all! This week I have been reading through the Book of Job in the Old Testament.  I love reading this story about a faithful man who pursues God with everything, even in the midst of tragedy!   If you aren't sure about Job's story, let me share the gist of it with you.

{ In Job Chapter One, we're told Job was the greatest man, blameless and upright, who feared God and hated evil.  He had an abundance of everything and God protected him from trouble. One day Satan challenges God to test Job's faith and trust.  Satan says to God in Job 1:11, "Stretch out your hand and strike everything Job has, and he will surely curse you to your face."  God allows Satan to test Job, in order to prove Job's faithfulness. In short, Satan attacks Job's body with horrific sores, and destroys his children and property.  Job's life crumbles before him. 

Through all of these sufferings, Job's wife asks an important question.  "Are you still holding on to your integrity? Curse God and die!

 Job boldly replies, 'You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" 

Job enters into a time of questioning God's reasons for these painful heartaches.  Although he's living a life of agony and torment, his questioning and outcries never speak against God. Job proclaims in 42:2, "I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted."

After a period of time, God finally speaks to Job and reminds him of his Awesome power and control.  In the end, through all of Job's sufferings, God is honored by Job's faithfulness.  Job 42:12-16 tells us Job is blessed even more in the second part of life than the first.  He lives to be 140, with wealth, prosperity, and the most beautiful daughters in all the land and gives his children a great inheritance.}

Reading through Job reminds me that we all have a choice to make when it comes to facing tragedy.  We can choose to trust God through the pain, even when we don't understand, or we can choose to turn away.  I choose to have faith! He may allow me to sit in a period of darkness where he doesn't immediately speak, or where I don't feel immediately gratified, but I know he still deeply loves me.    He wants to know I will trust in Him. Often times I'm so busy with my children and day to day activities that I tell myself I don't have time to sit down and focus on His word.  And yet when I do take the time to stop, read, pray, and listen, I am able to breathe slower,and feel myself being pulled out of this pit.

I'm not sure what God has in store for my life in the future, good or bad. But what I do know is the only way I will thrive or survive is by loving Christ first and seeking His plan for me.  Dad, I can't wait to see again! God, I can't wait to meet you face to face! For now, I'll go on living this beautiful life I've been given.

"We get knocked down, we get back up. We take the brunt. We toughen up. Cause we, know who holds forever. We know this is not the end." From the song, Alright, by the band, Mosteller. To listen to Mosteller, click on the following link

Redefining Normal Part 2

I want to start by sharing my first realization; If you know where you're headed after death, then our death day is more of a celebration than devastation. Before the age of nine I attended over five funerals that I can clearly remember. In addition, my dad was a funeral director.  I spent many days hanging out in the funeral home, and my dad drove me to school many times in a hearse or limo.  I visited multiple graves and wasn't afraid of seeing a dead body.  In fact, in my early college years, I worked at a funeral home in San Jose, typing death certificates and helping with family visitations. Throughout these years, what I hadn't witnessed was an actual death...until my dad's. 

My dad was admitted into USC hospital on June 2. He was not only suffering from stomach cancer, but also diabetes and heart, liver, kidney, and lung failure. On June 21st, he coded in the hospital room and was saved by doctors, but placed on a ventilator. By June 23rd, his body was automatically shutting down and doctors said my dad's death could be in a matter of hours or days.  At midnight,  on the verge of a new day, June 25th, Daniel, mom, and I sat anxiously in the hospital room. The entire ICU was out of control.  Nurses were running in and out, blaring alarms sounded in nearby rooms, and our nerves raged inside our bodies.  We watched dad intensely, taking every slow breath, mostly induced by the ventilator.  Around 1:00 am, my dad's heart rate dropped from 101 to 80bpm.  By 2:00 am, it had decreased slowly to 65bpm.  And at 3:00 am, his heart rate hit 60...the critical number.  Why 60? Because that's when dad's alarm alerted the nurses.  We knew once his heart rate hit 60, he more than likely was saying goodbye to the life he knew.  For the course of 10 minutes, his heart rate bounced from 55-61. Below 60, alarm on, above 60, alarm off... alarm on, alarm off, alarm on, alarm off.  Our hearts pounded...and then, without any doubt, our hearts were filled with peace.
Isaiah 26:3 says,

"You will keep in perfect peace    

those whose minds are steadfast,

  because they trust in you."

I had spent the last year proclaiming my faith in Christ, even through this terrible cancer tragedy.  I prayed passionately for healing! I prayed passionately for peace.  I prayed passionately that friends, family, and I could see God's goodness through this all...and at that moment, 3:10am, we all felt this perfect peace.  It didn't make sense.  And for the following 7 minutes, with the obnoxious inconsistent alarms blaring, we felt the best peace ever. My mom cuddled next to my dad and slept...Daniel slouched in the chair next to me and slept...and I stared at daddy's vitals...with a smile on my face.

At 3:17am, dad's heartrate dropped to 49 and continued slowly, one beat at a time.  At that moment, a nurse quietly stepped in, and silenced the alarm.  Once his heart rate hit 45, I slowly emerged from my seat to wake my mom up...but I couldn't.  Laying before my foggy eyes, my mom snored. I'm not kidding. She snored so loud. I'm pretty sure it was the best sleep she'd had in at least 6 weeks.  So I waited, and smiled, and a peaceful silence surrounded us.  44,41,39,36,34...it was time.  I rose from my seat, tapped mom on the shoulder and told her it was time.  She grabbed my dad's face and whispered sweet words in his ear, kissing him.  I stared at the vitals while holding dad's hand with Dan's arm holding me close. 31,26, 23..."Mom, he's almost there." 19, 14, --------------. 3:18am, my arms reached high in the air and I shouted "He's there! He's in heaven. I can see the angels singing."  PEACE that passes all understanding filled the entire room.  Six nurses stood at the door watching this exuberant celebration.  This was the best high of my life.  How, you might ask?  Because of God's abundant love for me, for us.

This life is full of joy, sadness, rest, busyness, pain, and peace.  There are times its hard to get through the day.  Many days lately I find it hard to wake up in the morning. I pray for my life to become "normal" again. But then I realize, there's not much excitement with normal.

Death is devastating for those of us left behind.  But for those who know the love and truth of Christ, death begins an eternal party.  I miss you dad. But I know where you are. And that gives me joy.  Friends, I care about you. I'm so sorry I have found it so hard to communicate.  Thank you for taking time to read this today.  I hope with whatever you're going through in life, you can find God's goodness too. Much Love.

Redefining Normal Part I

Dear Friends,

Recently I received a phone call from a loving and honest friend.  Although we haven't been friends for very long, we seem to have a lot in common.  In this conversation, she shared some interesting thoughts/observations.  One of the observations she mentioned was my absence of writing and sharing my journey of faith on Facebook.  Over the last year, I spent approximately 10 months during the time my dad was sick, updating friends and family of my dad's health and our family's progress, especially in regards to our hope and trust in God.  Since his death, I have been somewhat silent. For those of you wondering, I want to share what's been going on.


I was raised in a very close family.  We care a lot for each other and know how to encourage each other.  When I was 8, my brother died and during the years to follow, my parents did everything they knew to give me a healthy happy life.  They did too! I was nurtured, loved, and always valued in their eyes. Because of this though, I hardly saw my parents grieve the death of Kevin.  They made sure life moved on and helped me achieve whatever dreams I desired. Later as I grew older, my mom revealed that every day driving to/from work, she cried nonstop.  The reason I'm mentioning this is because since my daddy died, I'm finding this grieving process difficult.  What seemed to protect me earlier in life, is causing me to struggle now.  Because I never saw my parents cry much, I find it uncomfortable to cry.  Even around my husband, mom, family and closest friends, I don't want to show tears.  Because of this hesitation, over the last few months, I have drawn away from people, some of my closest friends.  I am so ashamed of this.  I am unbelievably blessed by love.  My humble and patient friends and family extend grace, service, love, and prayers for me.  And yet I can't seem to talk openly.  I have wanted to share my heart and thoughts, but haven't known how.  When I received this recent phone call , I began thinking of how I could still communicate and share my heart, like I had done over the last year.  So as part of my "redefining normal,"(as stated by our Senior Pastor) I have decided to start this blog as a way to help me grieve.  I enjoy sharing my God story with you all. You have no idea how much joy you've brought into my life this year. I want to engage in conversations with many of you but I've realized at this point, writing is an easier outlet than talking.  So if you decide to share this journey with me, thank you.  I truly thank God for so many of you!