The next few weeks will be a series of blog posts that are my testimony that I have had the privilege of giving to several ladies’ groups. I hope that as I share my struggles and challenges that God would use it to encourage you. He has done amazing things in my life, and I am so thankful.
Some of you know my story, and have watched God transform my life in the past 15 years from desperation and hopelessness to restoration and hopefulness.
Our lives have seasons that eb and flow like the seasons we see in nature. Sometimes it is a glorious, warm summer with an abundance of beauty. Sometimes it is a plentiful harvest in the fall. Other times we experience the cold and darkness of winter in a difficult season. And then God brings life back in the beauty of spring.
Grief can be a very dark journey to take. It is lonely and isolating and feels like it will never end. But losing hope is a much darker place to be and feels like an unending winter. When I first started my journey through grief, I had no idea the dark times I would encounter and that for a time, I would lose hope.
Jon and I were married on July 25th, 1998 at Calvary Baptist Church in Claremont, NH. God moved us around for a few years from seminary in Los Angeles to Cedarville University in Ohio for a job, and then to Maine, where Jon took a position as a youth pastor. Jillian, our daughter, who is now a senior in college, was 9 months old when we moved to Maine in 2003, and in October of the next year, Josiah was born. Life was good. We were both very involved in our church, Jon with youth ministry, and myself with music. We had just built a house and moved in October of 2005, and were loving having our own space. Less than two months later, we got some news that you never expect to hear at 29 years old.
Jon had cancer. It was such a shock. We cried and prayed and had no idea what the future would hold. How could this happen to a young, healthy man? Why did it happen to us? As we grappled with those questions and began the long road, our church rallied around us and supported us any way they could, providing meals, babysitters, rides for Jon and so much more.The next 3 ½ years are a blur of doctor’s appointments, hospital stays, surgeries, and treatments. Many of Jon’s extended treatments happened at Dartmouth Hitchcock in Lebanon, so we would pack up and move to Claremont where my Dad was a pastor, and we would live with my folks for a few months. We had hope that he would get better - each treatment promised positive results, but instead of taking away the cancer, it just made him sicker. My once strong and capable husband became so weak that he needed help with the smallest tasks. Eventually he needed to be on oxygen because the cancer treatments had compromised his lungs.
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