Saturday, March 29—Day 25

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus. For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive and remain will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore comfort one another with these words.
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

Hope
On January 4, 2014, Geoff Dykstra breathed his last. A mere nine months prior he was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. 20 days prior to his diagnosis we celebrated his 34th birthday. He had received a clean bill of health with a complete physical around the time of his birthday. We have five kids ages 10, 8, 5, 3 and 1 and had been married for 14 years. The most important thing I need to tell you about Geoff however was where his hope lay, or rather, in whom he placed his hope.

Following is an excerpt from the blog that we have kept along this journey, written by myself shortly after Geoff awoke, alive and whole in the presence of his Redeemer.

February 2, 2014

4 weeks ago today Geoff left this life. A month has gone by. A blur, a fog, a painful limp. Grief is so inconvenient. It grabs hold of you, wrenches your arms behind your back and throws a punch that knocks the wind out of you. And yet there has been hope each morning, laughter each day, life waiting to be lived. It’s been intense and yet swathed in grace.

People ask me regularly how I am doing. It’s a question I don’t often know how to answer.

This past Tuesday was one of the hardest days yet. I broke down crying, lying on the floor with no energy to do anything else. My son Finn tugged at me and cried “up, mama! up mama!” while the other kids watched a movie. Pretty soon they realized the state I was in and it set off the others, especially Keely and Silas. I started feeling angry, not with them, but just angry, wanting to throw things or bust a hole in the wall. It was messy and felt so out of control.

We have a favorite CD right now called Slugs, Bugs and Lullabies. The first half is full of fun and silly songs and the second half is slower, lullaby type songs sung by a daddy to his kids. Silas wouldn’t listen to the second half of the CD and would turn it off or run out of the room crying if we didn’t stop it in time. This day though he took the CD player into my room, hid under the covers and cried in the dark while he listened to those slow songs of love and tenderness over and over.

My daughter Keely spent about 40 minutes screaming and wailing at the top of her lungs “I want daddy, I want daddy, I want daddy, I want daddy!”

It was intense and I had nothing to give but sadness and mess and anger. I called my parents and they came over a while later and things eventually calmed down.

Most days haven’t been that extreme, but they are full of spans of grief and emotions that roll like waves. And many questions. Questions and thoughts like, “Are you getting married again mommy? If we move from our house I will lose all my memories of daddy. I’m scared that daddy’s not coming home. Will you have to go back to work mom? Why did God take daddy? I just want to run away to the graveyard and live there. Is daddy’s body rotten yet? I didn’t want daddy to die. I’m scared that you are going to die mom! I wish there was some way that daddy could come back. Can we Skype daddy in heaven? Why not? I just wish that none of this ever happened!”

This storm is unwanted and so big, but for tonight I will head down into the belly of the boat and lay down next to Jesus as he sleeps, unafraid of the storm raging all around. He is my hope and the One who has gone before and overcome. I will sleep in the assurance that He will calm the waves when he sees fit and these five young children and I will not be overcome.

How can such sorrow and such hope coexist within the confines of a heart? I feel both so intensely on a daily basis. Sometimes it seems my heart will physically burst. And yet more often than not I am finding it is hope that causes my heart to swell more than the grief! Sometimes it gushes out causing me to raise my hands and lift my voice. Other times it seeps quietly into my daily activities, permeating daily life with peace and laughter and joy in this life worth living. This does not make sense. How can this be?

“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep. That you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep.”

The grave is not the end. Yes this grief is real and even right. But this is not the end. Not for Geoff, not for me, and not for you. I will wait with eager anticipation for the day when that trumpet calls me home and my change comes.

“Therefore encourage one another with these words.”

Take courage! Persevere in hope! Our redemption draws near!

Leah Dykstra, Biola Alumna

Prayer
O MY LORD,
May I arrive where means of grace cease
and I need no more to fast, pray,
weep, watch,
be tempted, attend preaching and sacrament;
where nothing defiles,
where is no grief, sorrow, sin, death,
separation, tears, pale face, languid body,
aching joints, feeble infancy, decrepit age,
peccant humours, pining sickness,
gripping fears, consuming cares;
where is personal completeness;
where the more perfect the sight
the more beautiful the object,
the more perfect the appetite
the sweeter the food,
the more musical the ear
the more pleasant the melody,
the more complete the soul
the more happy its joys,
where is full knowledge of thee.

Here I am an ant, and as I view a nest of ants
so dost thou view me and my fellow-creatures;
But as an ant knows not me, my nature,
my thoughts,
so here I cannot know thee clearly.
But there I shall be near thee,
dwell with my family,
stand in thy presence chamber,
be an heir of thy kingdom,
as the spouse of Christ,
as a member of his body,
one with him who is with thee,
and exercise all my powers of body and soul
in the enjoyment of thee.
As praise in the mouth of thy saints is comely,
so teach me to exercise this divine gift,
when I pray, read, hear, see, do,
in the presence of people and of my enemies,
as I hope to praise thee eternally hereafter.
(Heaven Desired; The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions)