Slammed Doors

Posted on November 29, 2012 by Margaret

Today’s date will always be important to me. It would have been Nate’s and my wedding anniversary, #43. Though we can’t celebrate the same way we did on this date for 4 decades, my heart is still celebrating that God brought Nate and I together in the first place.

By 9:00 am my thoughtful children began checking in with me, wondering if I was in need of comfort. Although I’ve been wearing Nate’s wedding ring on a necklace today, I can honestly say I haven’t been sad. “Grateful” is more accurate, because yesterday God showed me something special about my marriage to Nate.

Last night my women’s Bible study group met for the last session in a 10 week study called “Believing God.” Throughout the weeks we’ve been learning there’s a vast difference between believing in God and believing God. We’ve memorized 5 practical statements of faith:

God is who he says he is.
God can do what he says he can do.
I am who God says I am.
I can do all things through Christ.
God’s Word is alive and active in me.

Each week we’ve stood and recited these 5 important facts at the beginning of our discussion group, and after 10 weeks, we can easily say them from memory. Personally, I hope I never forget them.

Our last homework week asked us to plot our lives on a timeline, placing large dots along the line to mark significant events. The goal was to note how God showed up again and again in our lives at important junctures and that he was there all along, even during the rough patches.

As I studied my completed timeline, God pointed out something new. His presence in my life hasn’t been just to open doors for me but also to slam them shut. As my finger traveled along the pencil marks, I suddenly realized how many catastrophes he’d saved me from by his closed doors, that they were equally as important as the ones he opened.

At the time, though, I suffered, sometimes crying out to God through tears, “How could you?!” One example was the break-up of a dating relationship with a non-believer that I dearly wanted to keep. But if that door had stayed open, I would have walked through it, eliminating the possibility of marrying Nate. And Nate was God’s choice of husband for me.

And so, as November 29^th passes by one more time, I’m not sad. As I finger Nate’s wedding band, my only thought is gratitude. And I hope I’ve learned that when God closes doors in front of me, even the ones I really want to walk through, it’s only his way of marking my timeline with a great big blessing.

“Teach me how to live, O Lord. Lead me along the right path.” (Psalm 27:11)

Hey Mom: from Nelson

Posted on November 11, 2012 by Margaret

Although our family is more than a week past the anniversary of Nate’s death, our children continue to share how they’re coping now, 3 years later. The 7 of them range in age from 22 to 39 and thus are all adults, but they’ll always be their Papa’s children.

We widows (and widowers) sometimes become so focused on managing our own seismic changes that we might forget to ask family members how they’re doing, too. Perhaps thoughts from my grown children can encourage other families who are also working to stay close as a group, despite having lost one parent.

Nate’s and my firstborn, Nelson, is currently far from home in Armenia, where he works full time with a global mission organization, Youth With A Mission. Distance on the globe, however, doesn’t translate to distance of heart:

Hey Mom,

I thought about Papa and you, of course, when we crossed over the Nov. 3 anniversary of his death. I have talked before about how that was the time I re-entered missions with YWAM [Youth With A Mission] with my team. It was a totally unique time.

Seeing the pic of him on your blog this morning really made me miss him. Interestingly, I was struck with regret about how I was as a teenager and beyond, and how I wish our relationship had been “more.” Whatever that means, I don’t know. Maybe it just means that I miss him, and it’s easier to beat yourself up for the past than it is to move on in a healthy way.

Here in Armenia, I hear Russian spoken all the time, and it reminds me of Papa. I still can’t believe he could speak it.

You have demonstrated the right way to move on to all of us and so many others. There is an American guy here who works at the US embassy, who did a DTS a while back. [Discipleship Training School with YWAM] He lost his mother a month ago, and they were really close. He wanted to hear from me about losing a parent, so he took me to a fancy French restaurant the other night, and we “debriefed” a little about it.

God is faithful to use all our experiences for his glory.

Love,
Nel

Our God is a global God, yet he’s also focused on the details of our lives and is “faithful to use all our experiences for his glory.” That includes widowhood and losing a father, as well as youthful mistakes with their consequences, and every other “wish-I-hadn’t” from our pasts. Our heavenly Father is in the business of redeeming our mess-ups by restructuring them as set-ups for positive purposes in the lives of others. Although the devil hopes to immobilize us with ropes of regret, God is always way ahead of him, taking our spiritual lemons and making divine lemonade.

Thank you, Nelson, for your love across the miles and your insightful reminder today.

“Godly sorrow produces repentance leading to salvation, not to be regretted.” (2 Corinthians 7:10)

Hi, Mom: from Hans

Posted on November 7, 2012 by Margaret

We [son Hans and his family of 5, living in England] remembered Papa on Saturday evening, ordering in dinner, and chatting about that evening three years ago when he left us on earth and went home to Christ. For his arrival in Heaven we are grateful and are looking forward to seeing him again when our time comes, but in his absence from the earth, we miss him very much.

Like I said to you on the phone the other day, I long to be able to exchange thoughts and words with him more and more as I cope with walking by faith, working to support my family, and being the head of a household. I admire what he did as a father and the many sacrifices he made for us, and the care he displayed to us all.

I think of him in little things – like when we got little Fizzy, our precious feline, and the way he used to like putting hats on our cats and dressing them up! I think of him when we are getting everybody suited up for church each week, or when I come home from work in the evening and greet my little family.

I remarked to Kate the other day that the smell of Johnsons baby shampoo brought back strong memories of Papa for some reason. When I thought about it, I realized it was because he did our bath-time routine, just like I do with my kids, and I still connect the smell to him from that time.

I recall many memories of my father as I ‘go through’ these experiences on the other end, as the Dad. I recall how big his hands seemed when he signed something for us for school, and the loud laugh so completely his own, such a wonderful trademark of his. All my friends would always smile when they heard it for the first time, and every time after that. It was impossible not to join in when he started!

All my friends took a liking to Papa. He would take an interest in them and ask intelligent questions (sometimes too intelligent) and was non-judgmental, accepting even the rag-tag characters who stumbled through the door with us.

I found a note from Papa just last week, God’s timing:

It says, “Written on airplane, 4 – 13 – 09, Hans + Katy + Nicholas – Thanks so much for the airport run and the coffee and the baggage handling. It means a great deal to me. You have that blessed little treasure Nicholas. And bless you for dedicating him to Christ! You are doing life correctly! Our stay was absolutely wonderful! You and all the Mills are great hosts! Love, Papa/Nate.”

What a wonderful encouragement to read that from Papa these 3½ years later. The airport run, and coffee at Costa (Nelson, Papa, and me) as we awaited his departure flight, and baggage handling (because his back was troubling him).

This was the last time I saw Papa until he was close to the end of his life. He was classic Papa, and Nels and I sat with him at the coffee shop for a while, just chatting before his flight. I recall Nels remarked that it seemed a poignant time, because usually Papa was pushing the schedule forward, but on that occasion he was uncharacteristically laid back. When we kept suggesting it was maybe time to go, he’d say we had a little more time.