It is Not Death to Die

An Easter Testimony

I'm up early this morning. Tim had a 6 AM brief, which meant getting up before 5:00. Actually, we weren't UP up because we wanted to snuggle and feel Baby-Girl kicking. So, a half hour later I made a lunch for him and said goodbye.

Sometimes I really hate to say goodbye, especially when it's my husband. It's a fight to trust that God will do what is good in both of our lives today, even if that good involves something really painful, like death.

On this morning eight years ago, I went on a walk with my mom. Spring definitely hadn't come to New York yet, and the sky was overcast. I had been working with Dad on a paint job that week and had something on my mind.

On our way home from work two days before we had stopped at a gas station for something. I always refused to be seen in public in my "paint clothes," so I sat in Dad's work truck and watched the people outside the gas station. I saw a girl pushing a stroller. She reminded me of Stephanie, a girl I had known from our old church. She looked really young to be pushing a stroller. Later Dad told me, "I saw Stephanie at the gas station. That was her second child." It was her.

According to Dad, Stephanie's father had been livid when he had found out that she was pregnant. What a foolish thing - to sleep with a guy in high school, get pregnant, not finish school, live on welfare...

I remembered something that Stephanie had told me a few years ago, when we were only ten or eleven. We were filling out name cards for our new Girl's Club. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Why don't you want your sister to write her last name on her name card?
Stephanie: It's not her last name.
Me: What is her last name?
Stephanie: I don't know, but she's only my half sister. Our mom...kind've "did that" with a lot of guys.

I told Mom about it that morning in March. I told her that I could understand how her dad would be upset. But I also pointed out that Stephanie didn't exactly have a good example for a mom. Mom didn't really say anything - she just made one of those "Mom" noises that meant that she was probably praying for herself (as a mom), me (as a daughter), and Stephanie.

A few weeks later I brought my sweet younger sister to the doctor's office. She had a rash on her arms - maybe from a plant that she had dug up in our flower bed. I had to fill out her paperwork and got to the question that asked about deceased family members. Mom had died several hours after our conversation on the morning of March 18th, but how could I fill out the question that asked "Cause of death?"

She didn't die from sickness, but it hurt to write "accident."

Accident implies, "out of control." It was out of my control. If the six of us could have stopped it, we would have. But even with the five of us kids spotting for my mom as dad cut down a tree on our property, we couldn't stop it. She dropped the rope that she had been using to guide the tree, and ran as the tree fell in the wrong direction. A small branch hit her neck. The doctor told Dad later that she had died instantly and suffered no trauma.

I am out of control. I couldn't stop my mother's death. I can't be a mother to my siblings. I can't keep my husband safe when he flies or even drives to work. I sometimes feel that I can protect our baby as long as she is inside of me, but even now, I ultimately have no control over her life.

Can I believe that Jesus is in control?

"He left nothing outside his control." I read this in Hebrews 2:8 this morning. Can I believe that Jesus is in control?

"At present, we do not yet see." (2:8) This is true. I don't understand death. It hurts.

"But we see him...Jesus." (2:9)

Easter was just two Sundays after Mom's death. Mr. Davis preached, and I remember that he talked about seeds and planting.

Jesus talked about seeds.  He said that they have to go in the ground and "die" before they can grow and bear fruit. Jesus was trying to prepare His friends for His death, but they didn't understand (John 12:24).

My mom came from a family who loves to plant things, and Mom passed this on to me and my sister. When it is spring time, we just HAVE to dig in the dirt. Even with our upcoming move, I had to buy some spring flowers to plant on my porch here!

Jesus experienced the same pain that I do when He lived here, "that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil." (Hebrews 2:14)

I often feel the power of death when I feel out of control. Even before I saw my mom die, I felt the fear of death whenever I wondered "what if." But if Jesus destroyed the one who has the power of death, who really has the power? Now Jesus can "deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery."(Hebrews 2:15)

"He himself has suffered...he is able to help." (2:18)

Right now, my hope is not based on anything that I can see. But I see Jesus. He rose.

"I will put my trust in Him." (Hebrews 2:13)

The good part of life comes after I die. Jesus was The Seed, and His resurrection proves that to "die" and be "planted" is going to be wonderfully amazing. He didn't stay dead, and neither will I! His resurrection proves that it is not death to die.

It Is Not Death to Die

It is not death to die, to leave this weary road and join the saints who dwell on high, who’ve found their home with God.

It is not death to close the eyes long dimmed by tears, and wake in joy before Your throne, delivered from our fears.

It is not death to fling aside this earthly dust and rise with strong and noble wing to live among the just.

It is not death to hear the key unlock the door that sets us free from mortal years to praise You evermore.

O Jesus, conquering the grave, Your precious blood has pow’r to save. Those who trust in You will in Your mercy find that it is not death to die.

(© 2008 Integrity’s Praise! Music/Sovereign Grace Praise (BMI) )

March 2013

Tim's was something between 6 and 7

On Friday morning I kissed Tim goodbye and told him not to come back until he’d gotten rid of his mustache! It has been five painful weeks of bristly kisses, all for a Navy tradition (Naval and Marine aviators grow mustaches when they go to the boat to do carrier qualifications).

We are finally nearing the end of flight school, and I just can’t believe we’re almost there! When we started dating, Tim had told me that it’s usually a good idea to wait until flight school was finished to get married - a three year wait after college graduation.

I don’t think we would have survived if we had waited until now to get married. We would have missed out on so much together! Leaving our family and friends to go to a new place every 6 to 12 months was fun, frightening, and faith-building. We saw God provide for us each time – an apartment here, a beach house there, a farm here, a lake there… and we don’t even know where the next “there” is.

Wherever “there” is, it won’t be just us anymore. Tim’s graduation date is April 12^th, and my due date is May 6^th. Both, of course, are subject to change. And speaking of changing…

I got my “cloth” diapers in the mail yesterday! Go ahead…laugh, ridicule… I am determined to use these on our child, especially since I did the math. If I can stick it through with these, we will save a thousand dollars (in just one year of diapering). Our savings will multiply if we have more children!

That being said, these are not yo-mama’s cloth diapers. They are super cute. They are re-sizable (for newborns through toddlers). They look like a normal diaper, except they’re made of PUL fabric and have snaps. The inside of the diaper has a pocket where you insert an absorbent cloth liner. To re-use them, you pull out the liner, then put both in the wash for a rinse cycle, and then add soap and wash. I got enough diapers so that I would only have to do a batch every 2-3 days (because I’m NOT washing them with our other laundry).

Diapers!

The Northpointe PCA girls did a baby shower for me in February. They thoughtfully donated towards two gift cards that I would be able to use after we moved (we had planned on moving this month). One gift card went toward the re-usable diapers, and the other gift card was for JoAnn’s, so that I could do some baby sewing. 

So, I have been enjoying the adventure of housekeeping (cleaning, sewing, and cooking) while Tim has been out saving the world, learning to fly jets and do cool tricks in the air and land on boats and stuff. However, Tim is excited about Baby, too. He already has a list of things that he wants to teach his sons and a list of things that he wants to teach his daughters. I have a little list, too, but mine looks a little less like the Westminster catechism than his does and a little more like a grocery list.

In addition to the sheer terrors of flying at high speeds, Tim has been enjoying fixing up our ’92 Toyota Camry. Two weeks ago the radiator started to leak, so Tim replaced the radiator. Two days later the engine started to chug, and Tim found oil in the spark plug…uh…place, so he fixed that and replaced the spark plugs. Then he decided to replace the struts on the hood (we’ve been holding it up by hand for a few years now). I’m so thankful that he is willing to take the time to do that.

One thing that concerned me during flight school was Tim’s call sign. Students are assigned a call sign by their peers in Advanced Flight School, and usually it’s based on something stupid that they’ve done. 

Not only are call signs usually based on something dumb that you did, they often tend to be bad words, euphemisms, inappropriate… Needless to say, I was so relieved when Tim brought home his new name patches two days ago! SLATOR!

Last Traps Before They Sell the Boat

One of the interpretations is: Sounds Like A Terror On Radio. Considering the other options, I was pleased with this one. It has a floral design to match his class patch (not shown here): an unemployed jet pilot wearing a Hawaiian shirt and looking for work (thanks to sequestration). 

His class patch (again, not shown here) matches the patch for their boat detachment: A picture of the carrier with a FOR SALE sign. The carrier that Tim landed on this week was originally meant to deploy. It was held back because of sequestration, and is the carrier that the Navy may have to lose.

"Traps" are arrested landings (tailhook landings). When Tim caught the wire and landed, he went from about 120 knots to 0 in two seconds. He says it was the most exciting part of flight school so far.

Now my man is home and clean shaven again. I'm thankful for his success, safety, and most of all, his testimony. Flying jets is a demanding, high-skill, and dangerous job with a selective and rigorous training process. Not many people can claim this job distinction, but it still falls under the category of "humanly attainable." Living a consistent Christian life requires wisdom and strength beyond the humanly attainable: only God can give it.