The Monkey Barrel

Archive for April, 2009

I cannot imagine the boys from Mercy Me knew when this song was being written that it would be played on K Love every time I turned on the car, every day since my father’s death, but I know God did. Sometimes I can even hear it now and smile through the tears like it’s my own personal message from both of my dads. They also wrote a song called Homesick that calls straight out of my heart. I’ll try to find a link for you to hear both but until then, these are the words helping me through the days.

Finally Home
by Mercy Me
I’m gonna wrap my arms around my daddy’s neck
And tell him that i’ve missed him
And tell him all about the man that i became
And hope that it pleased him
There’s so much i want to say
There’s so much I want you to know

CHORUS
When I finally make it home
When I finally make it home

Then i’ll gaze upon the throne of the king
Frozen in my steps
And all the questions that i swore i would ask
Words just won’t come yet
So amazed at what i’ve seen
So much more than this old mind can hold

Chorus

And the sweetest sound my ears have yet to hear
Voices of the angels

Chorus

Homesick
by Mercy Me

You’re in a better place, I’ve heard a thousand times
And at least a thousand times I’ve rejoiced for you
But the reason why I’m broken the reason why I cry
Is how long must I wait to be with you

I close my eyes and I see your face
If home’s where my heart is then I’m out of place
Lord won’t you give me strength to make it through somehow
I‘ve never been more homesick than now

Help me Lord because I don’t understand Your ways
The reason why I wonder if I’ll ever know
But even if You showed me the hurt would be the same
Because I’m still here so far away from home

Chorus

In Christ there are no goodbyes
In Christ there is no end
So I’ll hold onto Jesus with all that I have
To see you again

Chorus

This link gives some backstory to the writing of this song that somehow parallels my life in a way that no one’s should find echos. http://www.buzzplant.com/mercyme/homesick/

This last year, by far, has been one of the best and one of the worst years in our married history. Just before our 11th anniversary we found out that we were pregnant and would learn that another son was to be ours. The pregnancy was rough and every month was a new struggle to hold on to our Noah. His birth was amazing and Fred and I grew closer and stronger knowing how hard we’d fought to bring him into this world healthy. I was on a lot of bed rest and during that time God taught me a great deal about humility and patience. I couldn’t do everything and learned dependency on others could actually be a gift. Fred never blinked an eye when the doctor “put me down” and he maintained a job, our house, wrangling 2 very rambunctious little hooligans and their schedules, meals, and much much more. Honestly I got to feeling for a short while that I was becoming obsolete until Fred walked in after about 2 weeks and said, I can’t wait til your better because I can’t hold up like this much longer. In sickness and in health, he held true to our vows.
March of this year the call I have dreaded for the last two years came that my dad was gone. The battle for him, lost, forever. But how can you call it a loss truly when the reward for his death was life with a Saviour and a new home in the hall of his King? My heart is heavy and sorrowed and there is much grief and regret to work through, but I know my dad is whole. Fred, as ever, by my side, bearing my hurts, sharing my burden.
Just a few weeks ago, a call that would shake us in ways I could never imagine. Our very dear friends learn that the son they are carrying, is very sick and soon after the devastation of that news, their little boy is carried to his eternal home. Our hearts have been sick with grief for them. I have never seen my husband so shaken. I have never loved him so deeply as watching him take on their sorrow in the way that he has. Such a tender heart inside this stoic, tower of a man.
After Noah came, my health had stabilized a bit, but the recovery was a little tougher than with the other two boys and then it started getting worse. Tests were ordered and the docs were all baffled. There seemed to be no reason for any of the symptoms I had. Our family doc chalked it up to post pardum depression for a while but I knew better and insisted that he keep looking. MS had been bandied about just sort of as a thought but none of us thinking that would be the actual results. An MRI was ordered and the results came in last week. With one more test yet to come for confirmation, MS seems to be the answer. I’m still a mixed bag of emotions about it. For one there is relief that they have found something that makes all these symptoms fit, and that I’m not crazy or depressed, but there is an anxiousness to know what my prognosis is from here on out. Again, in sickness and health, our vows are in tact and Fred is all in for the fight. Nonplussed when the news came in, just another step in the stride of our marriage. Not a hint of hesitation.
There has been much more that has gone on throughout the year. A byproduct of life. Trials that come for everyone, daily stresses and struggles. We have grown a tremendous amount in our relationships with our church family. Our sons grow and thrive and we are amazed daily that we were chosen to parent these 3 children. John the very picture and carbon copy of his father in every respect, Luke molded in Fred’s image with his mother’s flamboyant spirit, and Noah our joy and delight who is the mix of the two of us. I could ask for no more than this life with Fred. A marriage founded on the rock of Christ, still standing against the storms that would threaten to rip it apart. Our 12th year with our most defining one behind us. I cannot imagine what this year’s future holds for us, but I know that we stand together to face it and that with God as our glue, the center will hold.

Fred in real life

It was the Tuesday before my wedding day. I had been packing up my things and moving them over to the apartment a little at a time over the last few weeks. All that was left in my old room of 20 years was my bed and some clothes. I don’t remember what I was doing in there at the time but I remember looking up and dad was standing in the doorway. He asked if I wanted him to wash my hair in the downstairs sink. Stupidly I said thanks, but no. What on earth could I have had to do that was more important than that? When I was little my long hair got washed every other day in the big cast iron sink by dad. Then we would go into the dining room where he’d blow it dry with one of those old brush dryers. When he was done there would be the smell of some burnt hair in the air and he’d kiss me on the top of my head and send me upstairs to do whatever needed doing at the time. I didn’t really recognize the significance of him asking that day and just blew it off, but about the second day into our honeymoon while washing my hair in the shower, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I got so homesick in those few moments that I burst into tears missing my dad. There was never another opportunity to get my hair washed. I wasn’t his little girl anymore all grown up with a husband and home of my own. They sold the old house just a couple years after Fred and I were married. Dad and I would sit on the front steps crying over the goodbyes to the home our family had grown in. All the memories. That year for my birthday he gave me the doorknob from my old bedroom door. I wish I could go back in and grab that old sink. I wish when we were sitting on those steps I’d told him how much I regretted not letting him wash my hair. I wish I still had the chance.