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The Life and Times of Jon Graves
Friday, December 28, 2007
P.S.....
It's amazing how God reaches me, even when I'm not looking for him. Today is a perfect example.
A dear friend of ours offered to watch the boys today, and I took her up on it. After dropping them off at 10 a.m., I headed back home to do some work for the airport, but after an hour or so decided that I needed to do something for myself. I ended up in front of the big screen at a movie called, P.S. I Love You. It's the story of a woman whose husband dies (interestingly enough at the same age as Jes...35), but leaves letters behind to help her get through. I wanted to find out if they got it right. They did.
All in all, the anguish she went through is very real and extremely accurate, at least as I can relate to it. Hillary Swank's character says at one point that she is so angry she could kill someone. All I can say is that I understand, and I would recommend the movie to anyone who really wants to know how it feels to lose a spouse. Please do remember, though, that this is a Hollywood movie, not Focus on the Family...
My story could end there, but God wasn't through with me. I bought a pair of sunglasses just before the movie started, and as I wandered back through Macy's toward the parking garage after the movie ended, I thought I might check in with my mom at her store. And that's when God began to push a bit more on my heart.
After stopping by, I walked by a small art gallery and noticed a few paintings of a woman in oil. One of the paintings closely resembled a self-portrait Jes did when we were first married....a fairly provocative one with a pose I had never seen captured elsewhere until today. As I stood there gazing up at it, I couldn't keep my heart from pairing the movie, this painting, and my life as it is now into one surreal moment. Then my brother sent me a text message, thanking me for his new iPod...the best gift he said he's ever received. It was the first message he's ever sent me, and it ended up pushing me over the emotional edge. Thank God I bought those sunglasses, because the walk from the second floor to the parking garage was filled with tears.
God knew I needed to feel that again; to feel the pain of losing her. He put the ingredients together and merged them at exactly the right moments to produce brokenness in me once again. Not because he wanted me to be sad, but because he wanted to hear my heart. He wanted me to be sincere with him again.
.................
I've thought a lot about a conversation I had with another friend, Karen, a while ago; maybe a month or so after Jeseca died. Of all things, we talked about the average span of time between the time a person loses a spouse and is remarried. If you don't know, the average person is remarried just one year after losing a spouse. I recall her saying how creepy that was, and I agreed with her. Now that I'm on this side of it, though, I don't necessarily know that it matters.
Much like Hillary Swank in P.S. I Love You, I wanted to simply die in the few weeks after Jeseca died. In fact, I remember telling my brother that I was going to begin living dangerously to test fate. But then I realized, just like the main character in this movie pointed out today, that while her story is over, it is essentially a chapter in my own, and that mine is still being written.
As the New Year approaches, I have a choice to make. I can either stay there and stunt who I could become, or continue to live with God and allow him to bring new people and experiences into my life and complete his story for me. Part of me wants to stay; the other knows it's not what God wants for me. Lord, please see me through.
We always celebrate Christmas with Jeseca's family on the Saturday before Christmas. I was prepared for it inasmuch as I had done all of the last-minute shopping Friday night. I'd accumulated no more than 18 hours of sleep for the entire week, so when I finally stopped running and began a 9:30 p.m. movie for the boys, it was far too easy for me to pass out on the floor where I fall asleep each night after doing my first few sets of crunches. The last thing I remember is the boys bringing in their own pillows and blankets.
A few hours later I was at Trader Joes picking up an apple pie for dessert, and noticed a bunch of flowers, festive plants and holly. Something tugged at my heart and I decided to buy flowers and holly for Jeseca, and some flowers for her mom.
On our way up to Temecula, I stopped by El Camino Memorial Park to pay our respects to Jes and leave the flowers and holly for her for Christmas. I didn't think much about the impact it would have on the boys; I should have. This simple, unexpected deviation from the plan revealed the pain Christian is still fighting so hard to deal with. After we placed the flowers on her grave, he said he was sad, slumped his shoulders, and with tears starting to well up, headed for the car.
...........
Everen's moment came two days before when we visited the staff at Radiation Oncology and he told the receptionist that the thing he wanted most for Christmas was to see his mom again.
They're hurting. I'm doing my best to point them to Jesus, but I'm also trying not to cheer them up; that would only encourage them to hide from the pain.
After I tucked the boys in bed last night, I sat alone, looking around at the photos I worked so hard to get up on the walls after Jeseca died. There's nothing to mask the pain, and that's okay. Heartache is an interesting thing when you have Jesus. There is the unmistakable sting of loss paired with the hope in a future that only a loving God can provide.
Jeseca was amazing, and I miss her so much. Part of me continues to ask God why he felt it was necessary to take her home so early. The other part knows that he just couldn't stand being apart from her any longer, and that it wasn't early for him at all.
In the end, what I said before I prayed for everyone's dinner last night is 100% true. While this holiday season is so very different for our family, we need to remember the reason we celebrate this wonderful holiday. For without the birth of our Lord and Savior, we would have no hope. No one knew that better than she did.
Amazing Race...68...business ventures...none of that matters when compared to the work I see happening in my dad's heart. (Pop, I'm so proud of you.) 30 years apart via the divide of divorce, yet God is bringing us closer, writing a new chapter in our lives and in my brother's. (I'm praying for you, bro. No fair on the Infiniti.) Maybe if I let my hair grow like Samson's, God will show himself strong and bring about a total healing in our family. Wouldn't that be amazing? Of course if I do, I really will start looking like a vampire.
My dad's really grown over the past several years, and it all began at a Billy Graham crusade in the heart of Indianapolis. I am so honored that I was there to see it. Now he's praying for me. Oh, how I love God.
On the other hand, it's been a rough couple of weeks for me. I've been fooling myself into believing that I'm fine this time of year. All it took was a simple question from my mom about logistics over Christmas Eve to make me realize that the pain is still there................
Then I read Psalm 23. And as always, God brought me back to life. I could actually see myself walking in the grass beside a meandering brook with the peace that only God can bring. Jeseca was right; "God's word is life. It's physical life, and we can't get away from it. I can't live without it."
Well, the Amazing Race wanted me. Now I'm not so sure. After standing for nearly 8 straight hours in the freezing wind and shade, my friend Tim and I got our shot at the limelight today... two minutes in front of the camera in an empty warehouse... and I'm afraid we just didn't make the grade. Maybe it was because I was shivering while I was talking. Who knows? I just can't imagine that they'll choose us when the girls in front of us came with tight pink and green shorts and some strategically placed "Pick Me" embroidery, if you catch my drift.
Was there an angle for us? I was probably the only former Dodger in the crowd, and we were the only team dressed in suits. The producer and casting director both asked what our gig was, but there just didn't seem to be much Wow in our taping. I did explain that my wife died in August, and how we'd talked about the Amazing Race being the show we would do together. That solicited a couple of follow-up questions and a double-check of our team number, but I just don't feel good about it. We'll see.
As with anything else, the result will be up to God. For now, though, I need a warm bed and the peace that comes with a new morning. Ah, how a morning can clear your mind of the foolishness of the day before...... At least I can laugh at myself. JG
Nine years old. What a day. What a weekend! Everen is Mr. Social, so I put together a last-minute birthday party on Saturday with a dozen kids and a handful of parents inside the shoebox called our home. He loved it. But the day came with an assortment of feelings, not the least of which was the standard "If your mom could see you now." She would be so proud.
And as of today, Christian is officially in karate. The delight on his face was priceless. "If only your mom could see you now..."
I mentioned recently that life is a love story. I elaborated on that tonight as I started designing this year's Christmas card (and after I read James 1, where we are told to "count it all joy"). I am 100% certain of this:
Life is the love story God continually unfolds before us; a chain of events that, though they may seem unrelated, are joined by one main theme...the building of our faith and trust in Him.
This is a new season, and it has nothing to do with leaves changing colors or the temperature or strength of the wind. Our oldest son is nine. Our youngest just began his own pursuit of a black belt. Their mom is enjoying a new life in paradise. And my hair continues to grow......
As I navigate these uncertain waters, my compass remains Jesus Christ, my eternal hope. He's all I have. He's all that matters.
