Without Cherie

Without Cherie…

There are some things that I wonder about…

December 2019…As I flip through family photo albums I am reminded of the fact that, as Cherie as my only sibling, everything is now left to me, to my mind, to remember things as they were when we lived these many memories together. Cherie is not there to dispute. Cherie is not there to laugh or to set me straight. The experiences are as I remember them. WOW…pause…As two sisters growing up very close to each other, how do I possibly convey to my offspring how it all was? How can I get across to my own children how it was such a BIG deal that Cherie and I slept on the bean bag in her room every Christmas Eve so that we could wake up together to see what Santa brought us? That bean bag wasn’t that big, but we made it so that we could sleep side by side, as a team, ready for Christmas day. There were only a few Christmas mornings I remember awakening in DeLeon, Texas, with my Dad’s mom, but most of my Christmas Eve nights as a youngster were on that bean bag in Tucson, with Cherie.

 Looking back, I remember how full my Christmas Eves and Days were for so many years. I was married in the Fall of 1993. I had my husband and his family and there was so much love. Cherie was on the outskirts of all that love. I’m sure that the Christmas of 1993 was very difficult for her as the older sister. Knowing Cherie, she felt in her traditional bones that she should have been the first to marry. I can only imagine now what that Christmas was truly like for her, knowing that she longed to marry and have children of her own. At her memorial service, Anne played a song that Cherie wanted played at her wedding…that song was about God’s faithfulness. I think that was something she had to rest in. Knowing she was at the end of her life, Cherie had to come to grips with the fact that she would not be married or have children of her own in this life on earth. That desire was also a deep longing in my heart for my sister, but God had other plans. Sometimes my thoughts wander to the fact that, had she had a husband and children when we found the cancer, the devastation would have been even stronger. I am thankful that God spared us through the possible grief that could have occurred. How could we know that God’s plan was perfect in all of this, despite our earthly desires for companionship?

December of 2018 was an earth shaker of what we all thought Christmas of December 2018 should look like, whether we had a family of four kids or whether we were leaning on God for whatever was next in our life. The cancer had already made its statement. It was on a road of its own. Upon receiving the news of Cherie’s mass in her colon, I broke down in the kitchen of my home, in front of my husband and my youngest son, Maximus…the son that had been built for things of maximum potential…the one who would decide to make his days count and, in light of Cherie’s passing, would be one of the strongholds for his mom.

Since Cherie’s death, there has been a lot on my mind. My years growing up have been halfway erased. My memories of my childhood fall short in some way, without Cherie’s corroboration. But these things don’t define who I am today. They helped shape who I am, but my everyday life today does not rest on my past. I rest in the fact that Christ knows my sorrow, my suffering. Christ has defined me as a follower of Him, and in Him I rest, knowing that my sorrow and suffering means something. It means something. God is with me in my suffering and my sorrow. Some days it has been painful to try to “move on”. Other days, I rest in God’s faithfulness, no matter what comes my way.

Some have sent notes of prayer and thoughtfulness, especially during this Christmas season. Those notes have meant something to me. The body of Christ cares. I have tangible proof of cards, texts and emails. It has been overwhelming to know that others are thinking of me and of my family and of my parents during this season. A season when so many other things could have consumed their thoughts. Grace abounds. God is faithful. The Lord walks with me through the grief in so many ways, even using His people to heal my heart.

January 19th........It is early Sunday morning, 12:30am. My youngest son, Maximus, will be running his 5^th ½ Marathon later today. Cherie came to Phoenix 3 years ago to watch my oldest and youngest sons run the half marathon together. We have pictures to show that she was there, supporting them in their agony to finish the race! I started missing Cherie Saturday afternoon as I recalled my memory of her being there in my mind.

 I honestly don’t know why, but this overwhelming sense of grief came over me after I visited a Walmart. It was an ordinary day. I was embroidering a pillow case for my new daughter in law most of the morning while listening to a podcast about a Christian man who had been dealing with anxiety for 12 years. Real life hit me. I have a son that deals with anxiety. This man mentioned that he sometimes wished it would go away altogether, but he couldn’t help but  think how God was using his struggle with anxiety to glorify Him….to lean on Him…to know that the Lord is faithful and goes ahead of his struggle. Sometimes he prays for his anxiety to go away, but then he recognizes that God is using his struggle to work out his sanctification; to minister to other believers that struggle with the same disorder as he does. He strives to learn how God uses his anxiety to glorify Himself. He struggles with something that affects his innermost being because he knows his struggles, in the long run, glorify God; his anxiety causes him to lean on God in a most precious way…a way that only someone with the same struggle would understand. He uses his weakness to help others and has even written a book about living with anxiety in a Christian world.

Pierce Taylor Hibbs has written a book called “Struck Down But Not Destroyed - Living Faithfully With Anxiety”.

I intend to purchase this book and read it fervently. I will also purchase a copy for my son, who struggles with anxiety. Mr. Hibbs has lived out many years of trying to understand how to cope with anxiety while living in a community of Christians who believe he just doesn’t have enough faith in God. I was saddened by his real struggle, but encouraged by the fact that he wrote a book to help other believers who are struggling with anxiety. His struggle has gotten easier, but he wonders if God desires for it to ever really go away. It is how he has grown close to God. It is how he has come to understand that his struggle is real and he wants to help other believers understand that they can learn to use their struggle with anxiety to work out their sanctification.

I thought of my struggle with grief as I listened to a podcast by this author I mentioned above. Sometimes I pray that God would take away my memories of Cherie being sick that last week of her life; I pray that I would not remember her struggle of wanting to pass from this earth, her questioning of how long it would take to die because she was ready to go see her Maker. I cannot help but think that my memory recalls her last days in order for me to remember that my life is not my own. Sometimes I pray that God would take the memories of her last week on this earth away from my mind…but then my friend texts me that her dad may be on his last days. Her struggle with the eminent death of her dad is real. And my memory reminds me of the pain, the struggle, of watching someone I love go slowly into the arms of her Redeemer. But just as Mr. Hibbs sometimes prays for his anxiety to be gone forever and then realizes that God gave him that struggle for a reason, I accept the pain and memories of those last days of heartache for my sister in order to understand the grief my close and faithful friend will soon experience in the death of her dad. How else could I really feel her pain without experiencing the pain of death in my own life? As much as I want to pray for the painful last days of my sister’s life to be washed from my memory, God is using it to give me empathy for my most beloved friend who will soon experience the agony of watching her own dad pass from this earth.

I will write more on my struggle with grief. I will share it publicly with all of you, relying on the truth of how I know that God works everything for His glory. For now, I will learn to rest in my grief as I remember the last days of my sweet Cherie living on this earth; because I know that God is using those most difficult memories to empathize with others who are experiencing their own days of grief. To God be the glory.