Best and Worst
Originally posted January 3, 2019
I try not to use superlative word forms like “best” and “worst” when it come to comparing calendar years to each other. If I did, I could easily qualify 2018 as the absolute worst and most stressful and exhausting 365 days of my life so far. Most people only judge a year by the last few events in their memory, but I can honestly say it was just difficult from start to finish.
2017 ended with a giant sigh of relief, and we had such great expectations that 2018 was going to be “our year”… the year that everything turned around. But 3 days into the new year, Chad fell 15 feet off a ladder and fractured his spine.
A year ago today, January 3rd, I was literally walking into my OBs office at 28 weeks pregnant when Chad sent me a text message at 2:30 pm that said, “I fell off the ladder. I think I’m okay. Homeowners called 911.”
I called him immediately and could tell the adrenaline had him in some kind of euphoric state that was masking a lot of the pain. He could move his legs though, so that was a relief. I was already in the Dr. office and was scheduled for my dreaded glucose test that day, so I just decided to stay and get it over with, partly for convenience, partly because I was in a little bit of shock and didn’t know what to do, so I just sat there.
As soon as my test was complete, I made a straight line for the hospital. The entire 30-minute drive across town, I prayed furiously. I probably looked like a crazy person to anyone who glanced through my windows, yelling into thin air like I needed to be in a psychiatric ward. I was angry. And confused. By all authority and power vested in me, this was NOT how this year was going to go.
Even as hard and fervently as I prayed, quoting every scripture I knew to quote and proclaiming everything in faith I could think to proclaim and rebuking every demon in a thousand mile radius of my family, I still had this eerie feeling like I was praying against a brick wall; some solid force that I didn’t have the power to move. I felt no different. Not encouraged nor empowered or protected. Nothing. Like my words had made no difference at all. But then I reckoned that faith isn’t the sum of our feelings, so I just determined to believe that everything was going to be okay. I would have never believed that January 3rd was actually the beginning of the end of my life as I knew it; an awful foreshadowing; a train set in motion that no one had the power to stop.
Chad had barely recovered from the fall when he unexpectedly passed away on March 26th.
Eight days later, I had our third baby on April 3rd. I never would have imagined that three months to the day that he fell, I’d be welcoming our third child into this world without him.
We endured Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, every family birthday, every Thanksgiving Dinner, every Christmas gathering, and every day in between without him. We ended the year on NYE with Samuel having a massive meltdown about Chad where he cried for well over 30 minutes because “he wasn’t ready for his daddy to die.”
Me neither, kid.
I have no clue what his trigger was. He was fine, and then all of a sudden, not fine. Almost like an instant realization as he was staring out the windows of the van that 2018 had cheated him out of something; robbed him of all the happy things he’d never do with his daddy, and so apropos that it was on the last day of the year. It ended a lot like it started. So much heartbreak and disappointment.
I have more awful experiences from wading through the waters of grief with a newborn and two small children than I care to bog anyone down with. But even in light of all the awful, there is this new sense of understanding that things could always be worse.
On January 1, 2018, I would have said 2017 was the “worst” year of my life. We almost lost our house, were drowning in debt, considered bankruptcy at one point, and lost another baby. But as soon as you even utter the word “worst”, it’s as if you’re presenting the forces at bay with a challenge. So just don’t; don’t categorize your year, your life, your decisions, your experiences with words like best and worst.
Instead, analyze your experiences and learn from them. Reflect on what you’ve learned and grow – grow into a more compassionate, well-rounded, emotionally and spiritually mature person than you were before.
So here are some of the things I’ve learned from 2018 (and part of 2017):
- God is faithful.
- Money and things are fleeting.
- Sorrow and Happiness are temporary emotions.
- Joy is a state of being.
- Inner strength isn’t something you’re born with; it’s something gained from standing under the weight of adversity.
- My foundation of faith in Jesus Christ is firm. As the old song goes – “The Anchor Holds”
- The Church is alive, people care, and there is still enough good in the world to bring you to your knees in gratitude.
- If you’re too busy to let people know you care, you need to re-evaluate your priorities.
- Most people have good intentions, but often say dumb things. Give them grace.
- Your friends want to share your burdens, but they just don’t know how. So tell them.
- The sun will, in fact, come up tomorrow, because His mercies are new each morning.
- Death sucks.
- Single parenting is hard. Hug a single parent that you know.
- The hope of eternity isn’t just an idea, it’s a real and tangible thing you feel in your soul.
- God is faithful.
- Things WILL happen to you in life that you can’t stop, prevent, or control.
- You CAN control how you respond.
- Tragedy forces you to evaluate what you truly believe about life, death, God, and eternity. It further solidifies what is already firm, and it shakes loose everything that is not established, leaving you with a solid bedrock to rest upon or shifting sands that threaten to swallow you up. Which are you standing on – solid rock or sinking sand? You don’t have to wait for someone to die to figure this out.
- Life is far too short to be concerned about what everyone else thinks about you. Make a short list of people whose opinion you deeply value and let the other voices fade.
- It’s okay to receive and not feel guilty about it. Grateful, not guilty.
- It’s okay to be happy.
- It’s possible to feel happiness in the midst of grief.
- Read the word of God. It truly is life for your weary soul.
- God still has a plan for my life. Dreams I had that died with Chad are being rebirthed into new dreams for my future and my family.
- Hope is healing.
- Because GOD IS FAITHFUL.
It’s only three days into this new year and I already know people who are facing trials today that they never imaged they would a week ago. No matter what you face over the next 12 months, I hope you rest assured, knowing that the King of the Universe knows what your year holds and will be with you through all the hard days, the happy days, and every mediocre day in between.
If you find yourself staring out from a vast mountaintop, I pray you humbly keep the truth and glory of heaven hidden in your heart, for it is far greater than any earthly accomplishment we can attain. And if you find yourself at the lowest of lows, staring into the pit of a grave (whether literal or proverbial), wondering what on earth you’re supposed to do now, I pray you find comfort in the One who knows the depth of your sorrow and resolve to believe that the God of the resurrection will bring forth new life from that which you lost. I pray you always have the ability to see the blessings in your life and the wisdom to realize that it could be worse; and yes, in fact, it will be better.
Lastly, I’ll leave you with the verse that got me through 2018:
“I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of God in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:13-14 NASB
I’m looking forward to experiencing and learning and growing with each of you in 2019.
Blessings,
Shannon
