Dear Pratima

This is the email I sent to another mom who lost her daughter to a window blind cord this past year. She is of Eastern Religion, but really undecided in her faith. We have been emailing for awhile and I would like you all to pray over my email and over Pratima for me. She needs the Lord, she needs the blinders to come off. This is what I sent her tonight. It is the first time I have given her the gospel clearly, although I have made it clear what I believe up until now.

The Bible says, that we as Christians do NOT know grief like those who have NO hope. Right now, Pratima does not have HOPE. Incidentally, her daughter, Nyah, died just days before their second child, also a daugther, was born. Can you imagine the trauma of losing one child while another new baby comes in? I can't.

Hi Pratima,

Let me know how your buying goes. I've been thinking about your question, "How do you explain our daughters deaths?" So many things come to mind. One thing I learned is that God is not the author of death. God is the giver and author of life. Life here on earth and Eternal Life in Heaven. Gretta and Nyah are in Heaven, of this I have NO DOUBT, none. Satan is the author of death. It is Satan's ultimate goal that we die, without knowing Christ. Because this leads to eternal damnation or hell. In cases of children who die and have not reached an age of accountability, there is no question, God takes them home where they belong, to Heaven.

There is no explanation that is sufficient to a parent, not even Heaven. We want them here with us. But God knew Nyah and Gretta's days before we even concieved them. I know that the day Gretta died was her day to die. If it wasn't the window shade cord, it would have been something else. There are so many things we cannot understand here and now, but there is a greater purpose. Maybe one of the purposes of Nyah's death is to bring you into a relationship with God. I have seen many good things come of Gretta's death, but that is not to say I wouldn't rather have her instead. Like you pointed out with your relationship to your husband. Still, God can make beautiful things out of our ashes.

I spoke at a Women's Retreat a couple weeks ago. One of the things I said was that to us, Gretta's death was a tragic, unfortunate, terrible accident. But not to God. It was never an accident to God, it was always His plan. If I think of all the ways that we can die, I think that Gretta's death was merciful. She did not suffer, she did not fear for her life, agonizing months of pain, kidnapping, etc. She slipped away like falling asleep and woke up in the arms of the Creator of the Universe, the One who made her, who loved her first, even before I did, the One who gave her to me/us in the first place. When she woke up, she was right where she knew she should be. She will never experience so much of the pain and torment of this world. Our daughters probably never knew hate, meanness, acne, wrong doing, guilt, disease, the list goes on....instead they enjoyed our full love and warmth, adored and catered to and after a brief life of that...they got Heaven. Trust me, they aren't the ones who are sad.

For them, they are safely HOME, it is we who are still here, we who suffer, we who agonize....until we meet them again.

Jesus said, "I am the Way, the Truth and the LIFE, no man/woman comes to God the Father, but THROUGH me." That means we trust in Jesus' death on the cross for us, put our trust in Him, recognize our own deficits/sins that prove we come up short of Heaven on our own and in exchange for simply believing in HIM (as opposed to just "something/some higher power) we get ETERNAL life in HEAVEN. To me there is no other goal, I want to be reunited with my daughter someday...don't you?

I am praying that you will make it into a new home before thanksgiving and also that you will set your mind on a new eternal home....for forever.

May God bless you Pratima, may He open your eyes to see His truth and your heart to feel His comfort and love.
God Bless You This Day!

Lesley A. Wyman

Both Sides

It is true, as one of my friends commented...."After a high there is usually a low". I was talking to my sister and she also mentioned that those things happen to everyone and are probably time 10 for someone who is grieving. So that makes sense, it just isn't any fun.

In thinking about grief and being at a point now where I can reflect somewhat on the cycle of it and how I feel, (Because for the first year or so, you just don't "feel" anything!), I realize I am still pretty low energy, unstable in many ways, incapable of making effective decisions, wishy-washy, unattentive, generally sad, at times lethargic, overwhelmed easily, sometimes flakey and a whole slew of other undesirables.

On the other side of this coin however, is the good news in bits and pieces. I have changed for the better intellectually, spiritually and emotionally. I am more compassionate, sympathetic, merciful, graceful, loving, concerned and prayerful. I know things about God that I didn't know before and He has shown me things about myself that I didn't know before. I am more courageous, steadfast, bold in my witness, unaffected by minor infractions or injustices done to me, simple, humble, focused on Christ and my relationship with Him, single-mindedly pursuing Heaven, privvy to secrets from God Himself available to me through suffering. There is more, much more, I know. More to come, more to glean, more to prepare for. There is always more for us with God.

I tell it like it is, because I feel it is what I owe myself. The truth. It is not real if it is not the truth. However; as I mentioned to a friend today, sometimes I write in deep pain because it helps me and if I forget to write when I am okay, then I am not helping others to see it this from both sides.

Avoidance

I have been avoiding lately. Avoiding: people, phone calls, cleaning, eating and other necessary things. Mostly though, I realize now, I have been avoiding Gretta. Her pictures, her voice, her memory, her existance really. In fact, I feel as though I don't know who she was. Did I ever have a little, sweet girl? Do I remember her? Was I her mother?

I have asked the question frequently in the last year, "Who am I?" Actually, I have probably asked that question a lot in my lifetime. I mean really, "WHO AM I???"

I don't know if avoidance is good or even okay. In part, it must be just another stage or moment of grief. I know some people already want to write me and tell me, "As long as it doesn't last too long... As long as you don't allow yourself to totally avoid everything...forever..." Right? Heres what I have to say tonight to all of you who want to tell me that and comfort me with some stern warning..."Blah blah blah!"

I'm probably not making much sense. But theres a great reason for that too. I don't have any left at the moment.

I spoke at a retreat for women a week or so ago. I led a gal to the Saving knowledge of Jesus Christ that first night, even before I spoke. It was incredible. I felt great that night. I spoke of my life and this journey of grief in the last year. It went well. At least, I have had good reports.

But that was a days ago now and though I rejoice for that eternal life that was birthed, tonight I avoid.

I feel lost tonight. It's like that with grief. You are riding the wave, not like an expert surfer or anything, but none-the-less on top of the wave and then another day you are swallowing water and hoping you're swimming up out of that wave before it drowns you.

I miss my friends. I miss my friends that would stop by if I needed them. I miss my good friend Charlie who I could call (I guess I still can) or stop by his motel to talk to him when I needed to. I miss my family. I don't like that life is going on without me in the places that I left. It's just like that though. I don't want to talk to anyone even on the phone because I know I can't see them. I miss my friend that won't hug me but who is content to just sit there and say nothing and be.

I miss that little girl too, that Gretta Claire, the one I can hardly remember tonight.

One Year Slide Show

Just wanted to let you know my friend Katie put on the slide show from Gretta's memorial. Make sure you scroll to the bottom of the first page and "pause" the music from the music list before playing it so you don't have two songs playing at the same time!!!

Thanks Katie!!

Gretta's One Year Memorial (slideshow)

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

First Year Mark

Well, here we are. I would not have thought I would make it to the one year mark. Of course you know in your mind that you will probably get there, barring death, but it doesn't seem possible at the beginning.

What has changed since those first days? My body isn't physically "aching intensely" for Gretta. I still have days, no doubt, but the constant physical pain isn't there. I have days when I feel okay now, I didn't for the first few months. I have laughed when I didn't think laughter would ever be possible again. I have slept an entire night through without a sleeping aid. I have gone a few hours, even most of a day without thinking about Gretta's death. I feel stronger but not strong enough relying heavily on..."I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

The anniversary brought with it some of the first feelings however. Matt and I both had extreme anxiety the two weeks prior to the anniversary. I began having flashbacks of her death and all that happened that day. I remembered things about the day I hadn't thought about or known (like, how I put her hair into two pigtails on top that morning for the first time). I ached for her again, relentlessly. I noticed every little girl around the age of two and wondered why I didn't have my baby again. I couldn't sleep again for the week prior to Septemeber 4th. I longed for Heaven.

I don't know what to expect this year, but I imagine, again, that we will make it through. I was telling Matt the other night, our "New Years" are forever changed now. Our years will start on September Fourth and end on September 4th.

The day of Gretta's death anniversary, we spent with family and friends. A short visit to the grave to view her stone (which was finally put in two days before). Then we all went to a community center near my parents and had a potluck meal. Our family friends, The Ophovens, have a family band, they played a concert for us after dinner. Their eldest daughter, Katie, wrote a song for Gretta, an instrumental piece; absolutely beautiful. The name of the song is Gretta Claire. I have a recording and will try to get that on my blog.

I held it together until late in the evening. A friend of ours had made a quilt of Gretta's clothing, Kathy Timm. That was an unexpected gift that evening and we spent some time remembering the outfits that she wore. It was beautiful. We also recieved a card from some other friends of ours, Tiffany and John Clark, whose daughter Taylor reminds us of Gretta in size and shape. After Gretta had passed away last year, they gave us a card with Taylors hand and feet outlined in it, so that we could remember how big Gretta was. This year they gave us another card with Taylors new measurements, for a three year old. That did it for me, I cried a bit then.

It wasn't until I returned home a couple days later, alone it turned out, that I went to her memorial website and really cried. I don't cry much in front of people, mostly because I know how uncomfortable it makes them. So I save it for when I am alone.

I am thankful for all of our friends that came and supported us. My sweet friend Katie took pictures again. (She is the one who did the funeral and viewing photos as well as creates my blog decor and slideshows etc.) I just feel blessed from all that have been given to us by our family and friends. My mother worked tirelessly to put the day together, cooking and cleaning and hostessing for us as well as my dear friend Carla, who is always helping us endlessly in many many ways.

Here are a couple pictures of her stone and the day. Hopefully Katie will have some better pictures for later.

Turning a Corner

After much guttural mourning, days and days and nights and nights, I believe I feel a lifting.

It is always a wonder to say too quickly how I might feel, in case it changes again on me.
I do not doubt there will be many days where I will plunge into the darkness of grief, the only Light my Lord, twinkling against the dank walls of sorrow.

For now, I am content to say that I feel His presence around me, softening and warming my hard, cold sadness. I can see Purpose, Plan and Path ahead now, though they are dimly lit.

The Night that is Mourning, is beginning to see the Dawn.

In my prayers I feel a greater ache for those who have lost loves and have no hope of their reunions, I intercede on behalf of those mothers out there who are drowning completely without any Saviour in sight. Lord, that I may be used as a vessel to deliver that salvation.

I would like to share this poem with you:

The hill was steep, but cheered along the way
By conversation sweet, climbing with the thought
That it might be so till the height was reached;
But suddenly a narrow winding path
Appeared, and then the Master said, "My child,
Here you will walk safest with Me alone."

I trembled, yet my heart's deep trust replied,
"So be it, Lord." He took my feeble hand
In His, accepting thus my will to yield Him
All, and to find all in Him,
One long, dark moment,
And no friend I saw, save Jesus only.

But oh! so tenderly He led me on
And up, and spoke to me such words of cheer,
Such secret whisperings of His wondrous love,
that soon I told Him all my grief and fear,
And leaned on His strong arm confidingly.

And then I found my footsteps quickened,
And light unspeakable, the rugged way
Illumined, such light as only can be seen
In close companionship with God.

A little while, and we will meet again
The loved and lost; but in the rapturous joy
Of greetings, such as here we cannot know,
And happy song, and heavenly embraces,
And tender recollections rushing back
Of life now passed, I think one memory
More dear and sacred than the rest, will rise,
And we who gather in the golden streets,
will oft be stirred to speak with grateful love
Of that dark day Jesus called us to climb
Some narrow steep, leaning on Him alone.