Good Grief

2 Years Ago…Today

thomjohnson732 Comments

It’s hard to believe that two years have passed since Amy’s memorial service. Today has been a difficult day – surprisingly – for me. Two things have kept me going today. The first is the song God woke me up singing: “Even If” by MercyMe. The second was the memory of my boys honoring their mother at the service. To honor Amy and my three boys, below are the parting words of each of my three boys to, and about, their mother. Isaiah went first, Micah followed directly after him, and Gabe spoke right before the final worship song. I hope these words move you as much as they’ve moved me today.

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ISAIAH

14324483_10210808805555894_1872310915559200635_oThe first thing that I think you should know about my mom is that she changed me through her ministry to other people. Mom taught me many things and gave me many qualities of herself to continue on in her memory. She taught me to be creative and to try new things; she taught me how to cook; she taught me how to be nice to and serve others; and she gave me a passion to work with kids.

Besides the many creative things I’ve attempted and enjoyed with my mom’s encouragement, she taught me how to cook like she cooked. I am glad I know how to cook her chicken, make her version of slop, and bake her amazing chocolate chip cookies.

When I was 5, Mom let me really help her bake chocolate chip cookies for the first time. We had fun, even though there was a big mess to clean up. The best part about that day was that it was the first time I got to do “quality control”, something my dad usually got to do.

Over the years, I have watched my mom volunteer at many Beaverton Foursquare camps. This past 4-5 Camp I got to volunteer with her for both my first and her last time. Every year, even when she was tired, she didn’t stop working at camp because she wanted to serve the kids and staff, thinking of their needs, not her own. I want to go back to 4-5 Camp as a volunteer though and help honor her legacy of love and care of others.

The second thing I want you to know about my mom was that she loved everyone she met. I want to live up to her example. You may not know that there were many people who loved and trusted my mom with many different things. She loved everyone, and hardly ever said “No” to serving others, even us kids.

I loved crawling into her lap – even just a few weeks ago – and she would hold me until I fell asleep in her arms. I may have surpassed her in height this summer, but I will have to strive to come close to her supernatural height and her model of faith.

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MICAH

14310560_10210808805995905_5256768924942963016_oMy freshman year I went to my school’s graduation ceremony, and every single graduate had the opportunity to give mini-speeches and thank the people they love. Mom leaned over to me and said, “20 bucks says that you couldn’t fit song titles into your speech.” So, instead of a graduation speech, I decided that for the circumstances, maybe we could make it this speech instead? Besides, she owes me 20 bucks already. But I guess I should just “Let It Go.”

From the time that she watched me do the “Single Ladies” dance that I have regretted since, to her pummeling me with a stuffed shark because I couldn’t understand the lyrics to “Hit Me with your Best Shot”, to her trying (and succeeding) to make me crumple to the floor by tickling my earlobe, mom was always mom.

Over the last two weeks of her life, Mom persistently pestered me about college applications, particularly, an essay for one specific college. They wanted a paper on my Jesus story, and how I have grown in Him. And although I know there was “Something to Believe In,” I struggled to find a way to write about my faith story. “How can I help you?” she kept asking me. I didn’t know what help I needed, so I didn’t answer my mother’s question. I spent so much time upstairs in my room or with my friends to avoid her bugging me. Today, I wish I hadn’t. For those of you wondering, I have not finished that essay, but I know who it will be about. Don’t worry, mama. I’ll make you “Proud of Your Boy.”

Two weeks ago, to this day, I was at work for an 8-hour, on my feet, being nice to people, shift. I was having a no-good, very bad day, and I called home. My supervisor was going to let me go on a meal break soon, and I felt like I just needed to come home. So I came home and had dinner with the family. It was a bit chaotic: I felt like a rushed mess, and they all had finished their food already. Mom made them wait at the dinner table for an extra 45 minutes just for me, but it felt normal. I didn’t even remember that mom was sick. “I Want the Good Times Back. That Would Be Enough.” We were laughing and playing games until I had to race back to work.

“How can I help you?”

Mom always asked that. To everyone.

I asked, “Are you okay?”

The day before her passing, we were having a great time. We went bowling to celebrate a final day of summer as a family of five. Little did we know, that was our last celebration as a family of five. About halfway through the game, Mom started feeling sick. We thought it was just another bad night.  She has had so many over the last 2 years. When we got home, Dad and I helped her upstairs. I wish I remember the last thing she said to me. But I remember what I told her: “Are you gonna be okay, Mom?”

So many people had no idea how sick my mom was.

You see, she didn’t want all the attention on her. She didn’t want everyone to treat her differently. So, instead of complaining, she changed the topic. She chose to focus on her gifts, rather than her sickness. My mom served in ministry for 30 years. Knowing her state of health, it “Blows Us All Away” how continually and unfailingly hospitable she was.

IMG_90661I’m wearing those bowling shoes now. We called the venue, and they let me borrow them to honor the last time Mom was Mom, focusing on celebrating with us. I kinda wish I could just click my heels and we would be together again. She taught me to laugh, she taught me to love. So much of me is made of what I learned from mom. And it will stick with me “For Good.”

As Christians, we don’t have to be eternally sad because we know that we will someday meet again in the Presence of the Lord. So, I get to say “Goodbye Until Tomorrow.”

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GABRIEL

14409486_10210808859717248_1674417536705584557_oHi, everybody. I’m Gabriel, and good afternoon. Amy was my mom and I just miss her so much. I wish she was here with me right now. I just want her with me. What made me really happy was how she just loved me. And I just wanted, for all of us, if we could just love on her and wrap around her heart.

I’m going to miss her because she was there. But I’m excited that she’s stuck in Heaven right now. She always sung me, “How great is our God.” That was the first lullaby she ever sang to me. It took me forever to learn her. It took me years to figure out why she was my mother. And then I got it. She loved Jesus very much. I hope you do too.

Our last song is “10,000 Reasons.” Some of you know it by heart. It was one of my mom’s favorite worship songs when we were a family together. In this whole memorial service, we have been just loving her. Thank you all for coming. Let’s sing together her last song.

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Amy gave my boys a passion to be servant warriors in her footsteps, to be a spark of joy in someone’s day, and to be someone who loves for no other reason than because God put the person into their lives. I married this incredible, amazing woman 21 years ago, and even though she is stuck in Heaven, as Gabriel put it, she is also stuck in our hearts.

Single Parenting

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active-listening
Photo Credit: https://perfectsmalloffice.com/listen-up/

It’s been a few days longer than usual between posts. I’m sorry. I’ve had one of those weeks where I truly miss the wisdom, insight, and direction my wife brought to this marriage. Especially in the area of parenting. Parenting is hard. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I took Amy’s contribution to our parenting for granted. For a while, I’ve felt less than as a dad, like I couldn’t quite get it all done – and not just the physical stuff, I’m talking the relational, the comforting, the directing, and the correcting stuff! I’ve felt very inadequate of late. So I prayed: “God, I don’t think I can do this?” He sent me wisdom, insight, and direction, from a few friends reminding me that I’m enough and that He’s in control.

Single parenting is more difficult than having a spouse to help carry the load, but God…(there’s that phrase again)…but God makes it all work. Here’s a snippet of the book from when Amy and I began learning to truly listen and trust God as a couple. We’d been married for just about a month. Things between us were great. My work situation was not. In the month that followed, we began fighting over the most trivial of things and even came up with a STUPID solution (that I’m glad we never tried).

When God led me to this section of the book while I was contemplating this post, I knew I needed to remind someone that “You’re enough. God’s in control. You just need to listen.” I’m trying to remember that message quicker myself.

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In less than a month, Wonderland would be shattered. My boss at the time was very difficult to work for, especially after getting married. Amy and I didn’t see much of each other since she had a good job in Beaverton, Oregon, while my two part-time jobs were up the Columbia River on the Washington side, some seventy miles apart. Amy left for work at 5:00 every morning, and arrived back at home around 7:00 p.m.

Little things like squeezing the tube of toothpaste in the middle of the tube created large blow-out arguments. The dinner I prepared for her on our first evening home after the Honeymoon was Eggplant Parmesan, ala L’Originale Alfredo di Roma Ristorante in Epcot’s Italy. It was the first meal we had eaten together in Epcot Center. What I made didn’t taste anything like the meal we’d loved so much. It tasted like Failure.

One night, while trying to figure out why we felt like we were butting heads all the time, why things didn’t seem to work out in our favor at all, and why it seemed like God had gone silent, I blurted, “I knew I should have resigned this youth pastorate before we got married.”

“Wha…” Amy’s response wasn’t even a complete word, but a complete thought none the less.

I inhaled as much courage as my lungs could find.

“I’m pretty sure we aren’t supposed to be here. Three different people told me they thought I should resign the church so we could spend our first year building a strong marriage before I begin working on the path to becoming a teacher. I started praying about it and thought that I heard the same message from God, but I was really nervous to tell you since you had said you ‘felt called to marry a pastor.’” At the last word, my lungs let go and I deflated, standing in front of a new bride who just found out that she might have married a fraud. It had all come out rapid-fire. No breaks. No stopping for breath. No pausing for punctuation. It was just staccato bullets driving their way through our concept of Wonderland.

After an uncomfortable pause, Amy quietly said, “I’ve known you were supposed to resign for a couple of months, but I kept thinking, ‘Who am I to ask him to give up his calling?’”

I was the one now standing in stunned silence. I would have never guessed those words would come out of Amy’s mouth, not even if $20 million were riding on it.

“Thom?… Are you…going…to say…anything?”

I got the giggles.

“What’s so funny?!?” This question was not inquisitive as the previous one had been. This question was shrouded in pain. Amy thought I was laughing at her.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the fit of giggles doubled, then tripled. I fell to the floor, turning deep reddish-purple, squeaking for lack of oxygen intake.

Many minutes later, I looked up from my seat on the floor while gasping for oxygen.

“Honey,” I managed, lifting my arm to encourage her to sit next to me, “We both knew, but were afraid to tell each other! Don’t you see the irony in that?”

“Not really,” she supplied as she sat, both our backs against the narrow hallway wall.

“You thought I would break off the engagement if you told me, and I thought you’d tell me I wasn’t worth it if I told you, so instead, we both sat in silence, letting what may come… come. When in reality, we both, who love the Lord God with all our hearts; we both, who love each other and want what’s best for each other to come to fruition; we both kept quiet. It’s a bit comical to me that we’re standing here, or rather sitting,” which brought a short giggle out of Amy, “wondering what’s wrong? Why isn’t anything seeming to work out around us? Heck, it’s just a week past Christmas and we’ve been talking about attending two different churches – you, in Beaverton, and me up here – Why?!? In order to try and ‘get along’!?! Or better yet, so that I can keep my two part-time jobs that pay less than one-third of your salary so that I can feel fulfilled and obedient to God when He’s the one who told me to leave in the first place!?!”

Amy looked at me sheepishly, “No. I was afraid you’d marry me and be unhappy for the rest of our lives because I asked you to resign from your job at the church.” I smiled, a weak, wan smile, but still a smile.

“Amy, we both know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God moved Heaven and Earth to cross our paths, from two completely different worlds. We both knew that night on the phone, three weeks before our first date that ‘this was the one.’ Promise me we’ll never keep what God is telling us a secret from each other ever again.”

“I promise.”

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Sadly, we didn’t completely learn that valuable lesson on that late December evening in 1997. It wouldn’t be until many years later before we truly learned what God had been trying to teach us: He is ultimately in control. Now He’s working on, “You’re enough.”

Good Grief?!? Intro

thomjohnson73
photo of eiffel tower
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What follows is the first half of the introduction to my book. Since the second half doesn’t “work” too well on a blog, I’m only sharing the beginning. Stay tuned for more book excerpts!

Some of my favorite memories center around food – whether it was a birthday party, a family reunion, or a romantic getaway, the food – its smells, flavors, and experience – tend to be the first triggers of great memories.

One of my favorite memories happened when I was eating a French pastry, on a bustling street, full of French, English, and other European dialects yammering away at one another. I stood there, one hand holding a fresh, warm cruller…well, a half-eaten cruller to be exact…and what an amazing sensation. The sugary glaze was slowly covering my hand; the warm, freshly baked dough melted in my mouth along with more of the sugary sweet, semi-liquid coating; and the scents of other pastries flooded the air. It was simply magical.

My other hand was busy as well. You see, it was the third day following my wedding. My new bride and I were holding hands, and had been holding hands for much of the past three days. I’ll admit, it was a new sensation – having lived seventy-two miles apart while we dated – and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Just intermingling our fingers brought warmth – inner and outer warmth – and a smile to my face. Mixed with the incredible pastry, I was in wedded bliss.

That evening, we were on a different street, full of many different languages again, but this time, we were eating authentic Chinese food, prepared by people who truly know what Chinese food should taste like. As I looked around me at the Imperial red and gold roofs that hearkened back to the Tang Dynasty in Ancient China, I was caught up in the grandeur of this new life together with the only woman I had met who completely completed me.

Later that evening, we stole away to a small shop that prided itself in unique cookbooks from around the world. Amy collected cookbooks. I chose one for her that would help us to remember the entire day. Handing it to my new blushing bride, I said, “We need to remember to come back here in twenty-five years.” She smiled back at me.

Taking the book, she replied, “I agree, but in the meantime, we can use this cookbook and our Honeymoon to inspire every room in our home.” Home. It had a nice ring to it. Yes, we had a house that housed our earthly possessions, albeit a rented house, but a house is not always a home. This beautiful lady wanted to create a Home with me! I grinned much bigger than I had already been grinning.

As we left the shop, dreaming of what our home would look like, I asked a simple question: “Do you want to head to the waterfront for the fireworks, or head over to Italy for some more Gelato?”

Looking around me now, each room of our home has been touched by that trip to Disneyworld, and each time I look at a cruller, I smile, making a mental note to begin planning my return trip to Disneyworld…alone.