Redeeming Memories and Laughter

Zephaniah 3:17, "The LORD your God wins victory after victory and is always with you. He celebrates and sings because of you, and he will refresh your life with his love."

It's amazing how one thought leads to another.

This verse was included in a recent list of devotional verses given to me by a good friend. What is remarkable is that this verse was carried by my son, Scott, in his wallet. The verse was on one side of a card, and on the other side was this picture of a laughing and smiling Jesus.

In turn, this reminded me of a time when Scott came home from Immanuel High School excited about seeing a film about the life of Christ that showed Jesus laughing. Scott was relishing in the sight of a Jesus who laughed. "Dad, Jesus was laughing in this film! Isn't that cool?"

Soon, however, my thoughts reflected on the tragic loss of Scott in 1996 and how much the hurt still lingers with me. Once again, I turned my thoughts to thanking God for a Savior who wins victory after victory - even victory over death. Thanking God for rejoicing over Scott. Thinking of how Scott and Jesus are laughing in heaven!

Then I wondered what they would be laughing about? I thought about the time I took a bad fall from my mountain bike. It was very bad. I fell so hard I cracked my helmet. Scott was with me at the time. I remember him racing after me and yelling, "Dad, are you OK?

I looked at him through the dust and dirt still in the air and started laughing. Why? Because something that had the potential of really hurting me, wasn't that serious. In fact, we both started laughing!

I wonder if Scott and I will have that same type of laugh in heaven. Having gone through something so serious as our own death, I wonder if we end up just laughing about it. I wonder if they are laughing about that now.

I remember when Jesus went to the grave of a friend and "He wept." But then, he told his friend to "Come forth!" I love that - and I have to think that Jesus said that with a smile on his face, even through his tears of grief. Yes, I have to think that Jesus and Scott are laughing at death that has no sting, no victory, and is only described as a mere shadow. I can't wait to laugh with them! That will be refreshing!

Counting the gains helps to redeem the loss.

I asked a young widow, "If you could wave a magic wand over any of the past, what would you change?" Her answer was not surprising but it was surprisingly redemptive. She responded, "I would want my husband alive again, but I would not want to lose what I have learned since his death." There is a healing tenet in this short story, "Counting the gains helps to redeem the loss."

Redemptive Living - YOU ARE LIVING THE RIGHT LIFE!

Many times when I meet with people who have lost a loved one to death, they wonder if they are living the right life. What went wrong? Why me? Why my family member? Did I do something wrong? Is God punishing me? These are haunting questions that make those-that-mourn wonder if they have somehow taken the wrong road. However, even in the midst of deep grief and mourning, it is always a pleasure for me to tell them . . . they are living the right life. A life of love is the right life to live even though it hurts. Even so, in the middle of loss, sometimes life feels like it has gone down the wrong road.

I love the scene in “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” when the drivers of two different cars are going the same way but each on the opposite side of the freeway. Obviously, one of the drivers is GOING THE WRONG WAY! In fact, this type of yelling goes back and forth between the drivers claiming the other one is GOING THE WRONG WAY! People in mourning sometimes feel they are going the wrong way as life continues to go on.

I find it helpful to be able to tell a bereaved person that they are going the right way even though it seems like the wrong way. Experts tell us that love and grief go hand-in-hand. If we choose to love, we automatically choose to grieve. Plus, our grief speaks of our love. We grieve much because we loved much. One really cannot have love without grief. It is only natural that one grieves when a loved one dies.

This may explain why some people choose not to love. If they do not love, they will not grieve and, therefore, they will not hurt. So, what then is the kind of life they have chosen to live? When one chooses not to live a life of love, one chooses to live a life of anger, fear, bitterness, revenge, denial, or certainly something else other than love.

When I see someone who is deeply grieved and actively mourning and still choosing to love, I have to affirm their choice. “Yes, life hurts now but you are choosing to live the right life. YOU ARE LIVING THE RIGHT LIFE!” Living a life of love makes the difference between being transformed by one's losses or destroyed by one's losses. A life of love is always the right life to live even in the midst of deep pain.

"And by faith he still speaks, even though he is dead." - Hebrews 11:4b

I am one of five, four brothers and one sister. Here's a picture of three of the brothers. Yes, I am the little guy sitting on the crossbar of my oldest brother's bike.  Jerry was thoughtful enough to provide me with a blanket to sit on. It was probably my na-na.

None-the-less, I want to talk about Marshall, the brother in the forefront. Marshall is a very important person to me. Marshall led me to my first concepts of God and in a way . . . he led me to Jesus when I was seven years old. That doesn't sound too strange until I tell that Marshall died when I was just under two years of age. He was almost five when he died. Yes, I did say he led me to Jesus when I was seven.

You see, through the years, I visited Marshall's grave many times with my bereaved mother. One time I started asking myself questions about eternity. Where was Marshall? And the bigger question for a seven year old - Where will I be when I die? Talk about coming face to face with death.

I grew up in a house of grief and I seem to understand the verse that says, "The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure." Was I wise at such a young age? I don't know, but I am thankful for the questions I struggled with at my brother's graveside. Why? Because the redemptive value in my brother's death was the very fact that through my brother my heart was touched in such a way that made me ask the hard questions.  The answers would change my life forever. Was death the end?

Thank God my mother took me to church. One day my Sunday School teacher (Thank God for SS teachers!) told the class of boys about Jesus and eternal life. This was the information that I was looking for - talk about good news. This was the gospel! God's gospel for me! This is what Marshall was showing me. You see, he led me to this point as the destination of all those countless times I visited his grave and stared down at his grave marker with so many deep questions. Marshall, though he was dead, spoke to my heart and led me to my Savior and Lord.

Is there redemptive value in the death of a child? I have to say yes. God works with us in all situations to bring good - even in a situation like Marshall's.

Oh, my dear brother, I had to say goodbye before I even said hello! Marshall, how sweet the reunion will be!

Hope that Redeems!

Bonnie and I went to Israel about a year after Scott died. Our most meaningful experience was our visit to the Garden Tomb in Jerusalem. I never realized just how much we would be impacted by that spot.

Before we left for the trip, I asked God to show me hope while I was in Israel. God gave me a theme verse for the tour: Hebrews 6: 19, “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

As an answer to my prayer, God showed me hope.

When we were at the Garden Tomb site, an older English gentleman gave us a tour. He lectured on the significance of certain artifacts in the area of the tomb. As we listened, our small group of friends stood in front of Jesus' empty tomb carved out of rock.

The Englishman told us, “While we cannot know for certain that the Garden Tomb was in fact the very tomb where Jesus was buried, we have found many Jewish and Christian symbols in the area.” He turned our attention to the outside wall of the tomb and started to trace a carving with his finger and said, “For instance, carved in this wall is an early Christian symbol of an . . . anchor.”

I don’t think I heard anything else he said. There was the answer to my prayer! God showed me a symbol of hope – an anchor carved into the side of the tomb of Jesus. This was my symbol of hope. The tomb is empty! Death is not the end! There is hope in Jesus Christ and His empty tomb proves it. This is my anchor of hope!

Redemptive Ricochet

In a Perspectives class, Brian Hogan, former missionary to Mongolia, finished his heartbreaking story of losing his precious baby boy on the mission field. Amazingly, he spoke of the redemptive value of such a loss. The redemptive value of his son's death was that a breakthrough in his ministry came about. Brian and his wife, by being living parables, showed the people of the small village how to grieve with hope of which the village people had no concept. Grieving with hope was good news to a people who had no hope in the face of death.

I spoke to Brian after the class and purchased his book, There's a Sheep in My Bathtub. (Yes, many sheep in Mongolia.) I introduced myself and told him that I was also a bereaved father. He took the book and wrote in it: "Compensation is coming. Nothing will be forgotten." He then signed his name.

He did not explain what he wrote he merely handed the book back to me. As I pondered his two thoughts I could not help but link the statements to Scripture.

"Compensation is coming": Matthew 19:29, "And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life."

"Nothing will be forgotten": Hebrews 6:10, "God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them."

Ah yes, "Praise be to the God and Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God."

Seeing the redemptive value in loss is a huge blessing that keeps pouring out into the lives of other broken people. It truly is a redemptive ricochet reverberating into infinity as we encourage others who encourage others . . . who encourage others! Spread the words of comfort. Let them ricochet into and off the hearts of others.

A period placed. before the end of a sentence

Someone once said, "The death of a child is like a period placed before the end of a sentence." I have sat with a number of parents who know what this means. I am also counted among those who mourn over the loss of a precious child.

Scott was born on November 23rd . . . on a Friday . . . just like today. Bonnie went into labor on Thanksgiving day . . . just like yesterday. Today Scott would have turned 28 years old. But the period came too soon. The sentence was assumed to go on. But it stopped shortly after birthday number sixteen.

How does one find redemptive value in the death of a child? My only hope is to be profoundly transformed in my soul; to be shaped by my child's life and death but yet not be totally defined by it. The death of a child is not to be wasted. That would be a double tragedy.

As I remember Scott today, I also remember Mindy, Claire, Oaks, Maci Jane, Anthony, Louie, Alyssa, and Kade. The last fourteen months have been very hard on our community. May God redemptively bless the families of those with periods placed. before the end of their sentence

A Redemptive Laugh

“We cried like beavers,” the young boy responded when I asked what he and his mother did when they visited his daddy’s grave site. Admittedly, I was perplexed by his answer.

So, I looked to his mother for some help. She explained that as they stood together looking down at her husband’s and his father’s headstone, her son asked, “Why are we crying so much?” She told him, “We are crying because we are bereaved.”

Oh, thank God for the humor and grace only little children can bring to tragic losses. True, sometimes we just have to “cry like beavers” as we face the reality of losing a precious loved one.

What helped us in our grief.

(Picture: The last fishing trip - 1995, Tony & Scott Redfern)

The church is truly the church when God’s people practice the one-another teachings listed in the New Testament Scriptures. While all of the “one-anothers” are important to living in a redemptive faith-community, when we choose to bear one-another’s burdens, we have a unique opportunity to minister to people who are experiencing perhaps the worst tragedy they have personally known.

In 1996, our family experienced such a loss. Our son was killed in a bizarre woodshop accident at his high school. Scott’s death changed us forever. Since his death, we have been asked by several people to comment on what helped us during our first year of grief and mourning.

People tend to ask for two reasons. Some people, who are recently bereaved, want to know what helps. Some people, who are trying to help the newly bereaved, want to know how to help

While we cannot speak for everyone who has lost a loved one, the following list speaks to what helped Bonnie and I in our griefwork:

1. People being present to us. Friends and family who just came by the house to be with us.
2. People crying with us without ever saying a word to us.
3. People letting us tell and retell our story of loss. Hearing is believing and it brings reality from the head to the heart.
4. People who said Scott’s name.
5. People telling us “Scott–stories.” “Something I will always remember about Scott was … ”
6. People calling just to check on us.
7. Mourning and knowing the difference from grieving. If we chose to mourn, we chose to heal. (Grieving is on the inside. Mourning is on the outside. Mourning is grief expressed.)
8. Giving ourselves permission to grieve and mourn.
9. Giving each other the space to grieve and mourn.
10. Realizing that we both grieve and mourn differently.
11. People calling just to read us a verse from the Bible.
12. A friend coming over to tell us how he was mad at God over Scott’s death and how God came to him and helped him process his anger.
13. People giving us books.
14. Reading the Bible. (I read the Gospel of John over and over.)
15. Other bereaved parents calling on us.
16. People letting us try to spiritualize everything.
17. People who followed our lead as we taught them about our heartache.
18. People who understood when we declined their invitations.
19. People who let us be alone and private when we wanted.
20. People who extended grace to us when we did not respond to their acts of kindness and concern; knowing that we were overwhelmed.
21. People listening to our theological–babble without criticism or evaluation.
22. Praying real gut-wrenching raw prayers - Everyone needs a safe place to really express how he/she feels.
23. People accepting us in the reality of our grief.
24. People NOT prescribing a time line for us – when to feel happy again, when to take down and remove Scott’s things from the house (every experience is different).
25. People going to the “dark night of the soul” with us.
26. Friends gently rubbing our backs and sobbing with us.
27. Letters and notes. (We appreciated all the cards but it was the personal notes that meant so much to us.)
28. People remembering Scott’s birthday . . . and death day.
29. People writing songs and poems about Scott.
30. People making life–changing redemptive decisions because of Scott’s life and death.
31. Recognition by pastors, civic leaders, and even politicians.
32. Grief Counseling.
33. Working a four–day week. The lethargy of grief is real. Bonnie took every Friday off for the remainder of the school year.
34. Practical help:
a. Meals, meals, meals. Not only provided to our home, but placed on a plate and put in our laps during the first week or so. We would have forgotten to eat.
b. Friends who cleaned our house many times – actually for several months, as we were too exhausted. (After that, we hired a housekeeper.)
c. We were hardly alone during the first few weeks, except from bedtime till breakfast. We slept with the light on some nights because the darkness seemed raw.
d. A neighbor cleaned our pool.
e. A friend washed our cars.
f. Men from the church pruned our trees.
g. A father sent his son to mow our lawn.
h. A friend stopped by on her way to the store to see if we needed anything.
i. A local market donated paper goods (plates, napkins, plastic utensils, cups, etc.) and cold cuts and bread for sandwiches as people dropped by the house.
j. Two ladies planted all the donated live flowers and plants. They literally landscaped our front yard.
k. A friend dried all the flowers for us.
l. A friend took care of all our bookkeeping, dealt with the insurance companies, and filed our tax returns for us. Dealing with all the paperwork was a BIG help.
m. We were given gift certificates for restaurants, hotels on the coast, and massages.
n. People who constructed physical, financial, and living memorials in Scott's name.
o. Those who helped us do the hard things and understand the reality of Scott's death: verifying Scott's body before cremation, receiving his ashes, preparing his ashes, helping us understand the mechanism of his death and his last moments of life.

What did not help:

1. People trying to spiritualize everything. If we wanted to find comfort in where Scott was (heaven), that was one thing. But when the loss, or our response to the loss, was spiritualized for us, it was not helpful.
2. People who tried to make some trite pithy statement to “ease our pain”. “At least you had him for 16 years.” “He is in a better place.” “He was ready, so God took him.” “God needed another flower for his garden.” “You must be so strong or God would not have allowed this.”
3. People who tried to avoid the obvious and act like nothing was wrong.
4. Sometimes doing the familiar was hard – going out to eat where we had been with Scott – and holidays. The hole seems so great in the routines of life.