Religion

Disclaimer: I do not want this blog to become a place of contention, or of political and religious debate.  It is a selfish destination for me, a place where I can connect with people who are enduring the challenges of life, where I can post pictures and videos of my beautiful child, and I can momentarily relieve my mind of the crushing grief that rests upon it.  I hope as you read and comment you will approach it as a sacred place, as I do. 

I have felt compelled lately to write about my religion, and I have hesitated.  There are so many negative connotations, and strong feelings tied to this simple word.  My inclination is to ignore the compulsion to address it, and to speak of more neutral topics, but my thoughts on the subject won't rest.  So here it goes. 

Recently my religion (Mormonism) has been thrust into the spotlight by politicians, by comedians, and by the media.  I believe the attention is mostly positive, and generally leads to greater understanding, but occasionally I am disappointed by the portrayal of my faith.  It is so easy to focus attention on hypocrisy, on abuses of power, and on political differences.  And surely these negatives need to be seen and addressed.  However, I find myself wishing that I could remove the generalizations, the stereotypes, and the occasional poor examples that are paraded around as truth.  I long to introduce the world to the many "religious" individuals and families who have cared for us since Jonah died, and even before his death.

I wish you could meet the older couple from our congregation who came to shine Jordan's shoes before Jonah's funeral.  The husband sat on our couch, apron clad, and performed this humble act of service.  His thoughtful wife handed him his brush, and polish while we spoke softly about Jonah.  It was such a sweet experience.  They were not asked to do it, they did not receive special recognition.  They simply felt compelled to help, and I believe they were inspired by the example of their Savior, Jesus Christ, washing the feet of his disciples.  They continue to check on us, to bring us food, and to hug us anytime they see us.

I think of the many women who have come and cried with me, who ask me to walk with them, who call me, and who bring me meals.  I know these women are trying to fulfill the commitment they have made to "bear one another's burdens" and to "mourn with those that mourn."

I think of my mother's charitable sisters, who are not of my faith, but who write me beautiful messages of encouragement and kindness.  These wonderful women know how to strengthen the feeble knees and lift up the hands that hang down. 

I think about the many people around the world who have prayed for God to sustain us in our trial, and I believe He has. 

I know that there are hypocrites in this world.  There are many who would hijack religion to serve their own selfish needs, their desire for power, or to take advantage of the less fortunate.  But it is unfair to judge a religion by those who claim it, but who in fact do not live it.  Hypocrisy is its own religion.  Wouldn't it be better to judge a religion by those individuals who strive to live it truthfully, although sometimes imperfectly...Individuals like my neighbors, my friends, and my family.  

I am aware that religion is not the only source of kindness in the world.  Many people are compelled by generous hearts, inherent charity, and not by religious conviction.  But many are, and I am grateful to be surrounded by people of many beliefs, who strive to live their religion, and allow me the opportunity to be a witness to and recipient of the manifestation of their faith.  Most importantly I am grateful for my religion, and for the framework it has given me to grieve with love and hope.  

Mark 12:30-31

And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment. And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.

Better Late than Never

I know it is cliche to say "better late than never."  Like all cliches it is said so often because there is truth at its core.  In the past three months I have learned that sometimes late is not only better than never...but late can be perfect timing. 

For weeks after Jonah died we received so much mail.  I longed for the mail to come, because it gave me strength.  Cards, letters, money...some from dear friends, some from acquaintances, some from total strangers.  It was overwhelming and beautiful and kind.  I was so grateful that people took the time to write a note or email and let me know of their grief at Jonah's passing.  It helped me to know that friends prayed for us, and wept with us.  Gradually this mail has tapered off.  When I go to the mailbox now I find the usual...ads, bills, etc...  But every so often I get a card or a note about Jonah. 

I wonder when I open these cards if the author was hesitant to send it.  Maybe she thought she was too late, that she should have acted sooner.  But the arrival of these notes is perfect for me.  As the world moves on and I have fewer natural conversations about my beautiful boy, I am so grateful that someone is thinking of him, that someone is thinking of me. 

I often feel like time is sweeping me down a swift river and I have left Jonah on the shore.  No matter how I try I cannot fight the current that pulls me away from his existence.  Another cliche...time marches on.  There is no stopping the progress of life, no going back.  These simple notes are like calm pools of water where I can stop for a moment.  They are a resting place. They bring me hope and usually make me cry.  I need moments that make me cry.  Sometimes I can't cry on my own.

If you are a sender of tardy notes, thank you.  Thank you for sending your love to me, whether quickly or slowly.  I truly need it.  I hope you will remember that beautiful words, and kind acts are always needed.  It is never too late.

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.  Ecclesiastes 3:1

Here is a video of Jonah listening to music and licking tupperware, for your enjoyment.  It makes me laugh.

Gifts

Today we were given two beautiful gifts.  I needed them.  This morning as we drove to church Jordan and I both felt lazy and tired.  Although our church is a beautiful place, full of people who love us and have supported us, it is also a place where we are constantly in conversation about ourselves.  Kind, and charitable people want to know how we are doing, and sometimes there is little more to say than "we're okay."  It feels unnatural to have so much attention upon us, especially for Jordan.  So as we drove to church, in our malaise, I prayed that we would have an experience today that would lift us, and we did. 

The first gift came at the end of church.  My beautiful, talented friend Vanessa presented me with an amazing quilt.  The quilt is made of blocks decorated and stitched by the women and children of our congregation.  Each square is unique and made with love.  Some have messages of hope, some have Jonah's sweet name, some are simple outlines of the smallest hands.  It is a gift that left me speechless.  I plan to wrap myself up in it on days when the world seems cold and tiresome.

The second gift came just after we arrived home from church.  The doorbell rang as I was making meatloaf.  Hands filthy, I quickly washed them and rushed to the door, not sure who to expect.  I opened the door to unfamiliar faces, a mother, a father and a son.  The mother said, with tears in her eyes, that they heard about Jonah's passing and had a gift for us.  On the porch was an adorable Thomas the Train Christmas tree from the Festival of Trees.  This was no ordinary tree.  This amazing tree was decorated by a family who lost one of their twin boys shortly after he was born.  The card that came with the tree read:

This tree is a tribute to the love that a little boy has for his precious twin brother.  Joshua and Caleb were born 5 years ago.  Joshua stayed 5 weeks in the NICU and came home to his family just in time for Christmas.  Caleb's stay in the NICU was for 3 short days before he returned to another home.  As Joshua has grown, he has developed an awareness of Caleb and a desire to share the things he loves most with his buddy.  Joshua loves trains and has donated his favorite Thomas to this tree.  Caleb's other brothers and sister have also placed a train on this tree for Caleb. 

Sometimes the emotion I feel seems too much for my body.  I was so moved.  The tree was purchased for us by the Live W/Elle Foundation, a foundation that was started after the tragic death of a beautiful 15 month old baby girl.  It was brought to us by this kind and humble family.

I have truly been blessed with many gifts in the past 2 months.  It is a gift to recognize that sorrow and heartache come to so many lives, that although my loss is unique my sorrow is not.  It is a gift to know that I am not alone.  It is a gift to be the recipient of Christ-like love and service from friends and neighbors, as well as total strangers.  It is a gift to receive service that is given without the expectation of recognition, or reward.  It is a gift to find connection with other mothers and fathers and families who have lost loved ones.  It is a gift to feel true love poured out upon me.  These are gifts given to me by my Heavenly Father, who loves me, and knows me.  They come to me through His children, who know Him and love Him.  I am so grateful.

Thank You

C.S. Lewis wrote "no one ever told me about the laziness of grief." I feel that. I intend to write thank you cards everyday. I think, today I will make myself sit down and write 5 notes, or today I will make a list of people to thank, and then I find myself so overwhelmed by the task that I can hardly put pen to paper. There are just too many people. I am amazed by the kind, generous, thoughtful, immediate, and continued acts of kindness that have flooded our family. It has made me wonder, would I have done the same if our roles were reversed?

It is hard to know what to do for someone who has experienced loss. I have often stopped myself from reaching out to someone because of fear of imposing, offending, not knowing what to say, or not knowing what to expect. Now I would say it is always better to act, to do something, and that we are given the urge to help for a reason. Here are some of things that people have done for me that I have loved.

Notice: The morning after Jonah died people began ringing our doorbell. Most came with food, some came with words of comfort, some tried to offer explanation, some didn't know what to say, but each came because they noticed that someone who was so important to us was gone. When you lose someone it seems as though the whole world should stop and notice, but people continue driving, shopping, laughing... I was so grateful for the people that stopped their lives for a moment to tell us they noticed our loss. I cried with each new person that came until I ran out of tears, and then they cried for me.

Service: Almost every person that came to our home asked "Is there anything we can do?" I think everyone feels helpless when tragedy strikes, and it is our impulse to do something. Our dear friends told us that as soon as they heard about Jonah they started making cookies because they didn't know what else to do. I love that. Our family, friends, and neighbors were left to their own devices to find ways of helping us and healing us. Here are a few beautiful things they have done for us...

• shined Jordan's shoes for the funeral
• shared books that helped them during their own loss or grief
• brought beautiful flowers
• gave me personalized jewelry to remember Jonah
• wrote down tender memories of Jonah
• arranged meals for my family
• set-up a bank account to help with funeral and medical expenses
• gave us gift cards, so Jordan and I could spend time alone together
• donated money
• helped me get ready the morning of the funeral
• brought me waterproof mascara
  
• sent me pictures of Jonah
• called all of Jonah's doctors and specialists
• brought healthy drinks, because I couldn't eat anything for days
• traveled great distances for the funeral and to be with us
• created beautiful art to remember Jonah
• asked me to go walking in the morning
• arranged the food for the funeral
• continued to invite me to lunch (even though I didn't feel like going for awhile)
• brought a Costco pack of Kleenex, and Tupperware for leftovers
• called me
• brought soothing music
• put Jonah's pictures into a beautiful photo album
• took beautiful pictures of the funeral
• made cookies, bread, and other comfort food
• put all of my videos of Jonah on a DVD
• visited Jonah's grave
• helped me shop for a dress and shoes to wear to the funeral
• took care of my other family members that were struggling
• prayed and fasted for us
• helped me clean my house
• helped me plant bulbs to brighten my yard in the spring
• offered legal advice to help with insurance
• arranged to have balloons at Jonah's grave
• wept with me
• donated picture frames to use at the funeral
  

Love: I have had a lot of people tell me that they are impressed by my strength in dealing with Jonah's death. Honestly I too am astonished by the strength I feel. The day Jonah died I never thought I would feel strong again. The only explanation I can give is that I have been lifted and strengthened by the selfless Christ-like love that people have shown to me. In his talk, You are My Hands, Dieter F. Ucthdorf wrote,

When I think of the Savior, I often picture Him with hands outstretched, reaching out to comfort, heal, bless, and love. And He always talked with, never down to, people. He loved the humble and the meek and walked among them, ministering to them and offering hope and salvation...As we emulate His perfect example, our hands can become His hands; our eyes, His eyes; our heart, His heart.

I don't know when I will be able to send you a proper personal thank you note, but I hope until then this note will do. Thank you!