Facets of Faith

Friends, I (Jennifer) have the privilege of introducing you to one of our precious friends, Terry. Our team is honored she accepted our invitation to share with you. Take time to lean in and mine the life lessons woven into her story. They are bedrock faith truths we all need—now or in the future—as we face the most difficult trials. I just want to get out of the way and let you meet her. Terry has so much to share. Honestly, life is hard, and some of us hope to move through it with God’s strength.

“Peace is not the absence of turmoil, it’s the Presence of God” – unknown

One night while I was praying, I had the sense that the Holy Spirit was telling me to specifically pray that my husband, Scott, and I would praise Him until our last breath. I was taken aback for a moment because I knew that was a loaded prayer. But I also know faith is an act of the will, so I obediently prayed even though it was scary. And I prayed it the next night, and the next…

I never mentioned it to Scott because, honestly, it didn’t occur to me during the day. It was at night, when all was quiet, that I’d hear Him whispering to me to pray that we would praise Him until our last breath. Oh, how I would need His strength to face the upcoming chapters of our lives.

In 2 ½ years I lost my daughter (June 2015: died in her sleep), husband (February 2017: cancer), and mother (January 2018: an extremely rare case of Cystic Fibrosis). Praying, “Lord, let us praise You until our last breath” is a “dangerous” prayer…

Jessica:  February 28, 1987 – June 18, 2015
Jessica (our only child) died in her sleep at 28 years old of complications from her auto-immune illnesses. Her passing took us by total surprise. We did not realize the impact her illnesses had taken on her heart.

Jess contracted a severe case of mono when she was 16. The mono wiped out her immune system and was the trigger for several autoimmune illnesses (Raynaud’s Phenomenon, Sjorgren’s Syndrome), plus Narcolepsy, high blood pressure, Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. We pursued medical, holistic, and chiropractic treatments for 12 years with only minor improvements. She was only able to leave the house for short periods of time because of exhaustion and unrelenting pain.

Besides the Lord, her greatest joy was when she was with her nieces and nephews. (Technically they’re second cousins, but it would have been dangerous to your health if you pointed that out. Seriously.) She also loved playing sports, and it grieved her that she could no longer participate. Jessica was bitter that she “didn’t have a life.” She was homebound most of the time. And when she did have plans, she usually had to cancel at the last minute. She was very lonely, although we were very close. I also have multiple autoimmune illness and was often home as well. We did everything together, including seeing the same doctors. Our rheumatologist called us “The Twins.” We had the same odd sense of humor and made each other laugh hysterically.

At 2:30am on the morning of June 18, 2015, Jess woke me because of a severe headache (she had chronic migraines) and terrible nausea. She complained she was cold and asked for the down comforter. Jess and I were rarely cold, even in Chicago winters, so this was odd. I found the comforter and gave her nausea and pain meds.

I prayed over her for healing that night while she slept. And she was healed, but not how I had expected.

Later that morning (11:45am) I went to wake Jess. It was obvious she had passed away. No words can describe the feeling of seeing your child in rigor and being cold to the touch. I called 911 and explained the situation. I was as calm as you can be in the situation. The operator insisted I might be mistaken about her being dead, though I reiterated she was deathly pale and in rigor. He repeated that I should immediately get her on the floor and begin CPR. Suddenly, I thought he might be right! Maybe I was wrong! Then I lost it, as they say. I straddled her and began CPR, which was difficult because she was on her side. I began shaking her and screaming her name.

The police, ambulance, and coroner arrived. I was immediately escorted out of her room by the police. The coroner went in her room and closed the door.

My husband was teaching summer school, and the switchboard shut down at noon. I called his cell phone over and over, but he didn’t pick up his silenced phone. He called back ten minutes later, but the officer would not let me speak to him. He told Scott that he needed to get home right away. (Scott said later that driving home from school every day after was traumatic. He didn’t know which one of us was in trouble, and he relived the feelings every day coming home from school.)

“Until Jesus is enough, nothing or no one will ever be enough…”

I wrote this on a post-it note on Jessica’s door…then I was called to live it.

The next few weeks are a blur, but we had a sense of peace that was—and still is—hard to understand. I am not saying it was easy. When someone asked how I was doing, I quoted Psalm 119:92, “If Your law had not been my delight, I would have perished in my sorrow.” And that is the truth.

We didn’t have a service right away. Our family, friends, church family, lavished us with love and did everything possible to make the situation a little less painful. We held a Celebration of Life a few weeks after Jess passed. It was a joyous and beautiful service. ONLY GOD can give you the strength and peace to praise Him when what’s most precious to you is taken.

 

“God is good, all the time. All the time, God is good.”

 

Scott:  April 18,1959 – February 7, 2017
Nine months after Jessica’s passing, we learned Scott had Metastatic Soft Tissue Sarcoma. What a dermatologist diagnosed as a “pimple” turned out to be a cancerous tumor that had spread to his lungs.

The cancer was aggressive and continued to spread despite treatment. Each doctor’s appointment brought news of what organs the cancer had spread to next. Despite the chemo treatments, Scott continued to push himself to work. He didn’t want to let his students down and didn’t want them to know he was fighting cancer, lest they worry and not focus on their work. Scott soldiered on, not complaining nor wanting special treatment. He trusted the Lord, no matter the outcome.

I, however, was very overwhelmed. Whenever I would express my fear of losing him, Scott would remind me that, “God is good.” And it really grated my nerves. I agreed that God is good, but cancer is not. Scott never wavered that his precious Lord and Savior was good…all the time.

My beloved husband of almost 32 years died 11 months after the diagnosis. He praised the Lord until his final breath.

Once again, our friends, family, and church family rallied around me. Scott’s Celebration of Life was a true celebration of his life and love for the Lord, family, friends, and students.

And, once again, I have total peace but my heart is forever broken.

And, once again, I can say that the only way to survive the losses is with the comfort of the Holy Spirit.

Mom:  March 10,1939 – January 28, 2018
My mother, Laverne May, was a cross between Dolly Parton and Granny from the Beverly Hillbillies. Quite a character. She was truly one of the most generous people I have ever met. I don’t think she ever met a critter, save snakes, that she didn’t love. Mom was not without her flaws—as all of us are not—but she was wise. My little brother died in 1977 at the age of 11 years old, of Cystic Fibrosis. It was because of John’s illness that my parents came to know the Lord.

When Jessica passed, my mom gently reminded me that Jess “was never yours to begin with.” Had anyone else said that to me, it would not have been pretty. But having buried a child and two grandchildren, she had earned the right to speak that truth to me.

My mother had been healthy until the last ten years of her life. She contracted pneumonia over and over and this once-entertaining and spirited woman became increasingly somber. We thought the doctor had lost his mind when he suggested Mom had CF. Cystic Fibrosis is a cruel disease and takes away life early. She didn’t fit the typical description, but DNA tests confirmed she had a very rare case. The doctors theorized that the disease lay dormant until the stress of a number of significant losses (her brother, father, husband, grandson in six years) set the illness in motion.

We were blessed her suffering was not prolonged. She went to bed in early December and couldn’t get back up. She passed less than two months later. The world is a little less kind with her passing. I miss her greatly.

What shall I return to the Lord for all His goodness to me? Psalm 116:12

My brother-in-law, a very godly man, passed years ago in his forties, leaving behind a wife and three daughters. Someone expressed to my sister-in-law, Jamie, that “she didn’t deserve” to have her husband taken from her and her daughters. She replied that she didn’t “deserve” to have such a kind and godly man as a husband and father to her girls. Her statement impacted me greatly.

It’s tempting to focus on the losses and not on the blessings of having a daughter, husband, and mother that adored me, and I them. It’s a rare gift, indeed. And, like Jamie, I can never repay the Lord for His goodness to me.

My prayer continues to be that “I would praise Him until my final breath.”