Behind the Brush
Epilogue 2021
This year is the twenty-ninth anniversary of Jason’s death. I can say those words now without pain—not without sorrow, but without pain.
The question posed to me is: What do you see now as you look back on the grieving process?
My heavenly father was always there. I did not always feel Him or trust Him, but He was there. Around every turn He was faithful.
Overlaid on all of the pain, sorrow, lessons and struggles, He was there. From the vantage point of nearly thirty years, I see a few things more clearly that I may have only indicated subtly in the first edition of the book. A major part of His presence was in worship. I think I didn’t mention it because I was UNAWARE of what a huge part worship played in my healing. God was present in my worship. The Bible says He inhabits the praises of His people. The Psalms, which I read regularly, are full of worship. I have a couple of old hymnals which I often used for my personal time with the Lord. They ministered deeply to my heart. We were regular attenders at our church and the worship was always meaningful as I praised Him and felt His presence. Our vacations often consisted of attending Aldersgate Ministries Annual Conference. There were teachings on listening to the Holy Spirit and His work in our lives. Along with the teachings, the worship services were rich with beautiful music. I grew in delighting in His presence. The painting entitled The Bride (shown on p.121 ) is based on a picture in my mind during worship at one of these events. I was also involved with Celebration Women’s Ministry on the local and national level. Not only was the teaching valuable, but being in community with godly women who loved and cared for me and modeled Christian love and leadership was priceless. At those events too, worship was an integral part. These connections overflowed into my studio time. Most often as I painted, the music I played was worship music. Dennis Jernigan, Babbie Mason, and many others along with classical instrumentals, lifted my heart to God. This is a huge need for grieving hearts. I never thought about how much healing came through the music! It was just a part of my life. I knew painting was good for me, but I seldom paint without music. I am sure the ministry to my heart through the words and melodies of worship were a huge part of the comfort my heart sought.
Rereading this book now makes me thankful. My original goal in writing it was a little book with a lot of information. I am so very pleased that it is accomplishing just what my heart intended: helping people walk through grief. For me personally, reviewing it now from this distance in time has been like reading the Old Testament, full of stories where God shows Himself faithful. Wayne and I worked on this project together and marveled at all He has done. I am so thankful for Jesus’ healing touch.
Reflecting on the time soon after we published this book, I’m reminded of a young mother I met at the park. Her little boy was playing with my grandson, and as we chatted, she shared her sadness with me. It was her anniversary, but her young husband had died two years before. My heart ached as I listened. Upon discovering we lived nearby, I dropped a book off at her home. We often met at the park with the boys. One day over a picnic lunch, she shared with me, “The book is so good. There are so many helpful things in it.” Then she paused, and rather apologetically said she thought “it would be better though, without all the religion.” I laughed outloud! Seriously, I’m so thankful that was my response. God is so faithful to give you words when you need them. “Oh,” Melissa, I said, “you don’t understand! Without Jesus I wouldn’t be here! I would have found a cliff to jump off of. There would be no me, and there would be no book.” Then I added, “But wouldn’t it be good if someone who didn’t know God loved them read it and discovered that they didn’t have to do the hard work of grief all alone,
that He would walk through it with them?” Her response was slow in coming…thoughtfully she replied, “I think I need to read it again.”
Anniversary Angst
This year on the 29th anniversary of Jason’s death (2021) I could not bear to do my annual Facebook post. Though I like to acknowledge our love for him and honor the day he departed this world, I was troubled. The sheer number of anniversaries said to me, “Shouldn’t you have this figured out by now? Why is the anniversary still so hard?” On a day-to-day basis, I walk in joy and faith and freedom from the pain of grief. So, why do I tolerate…accept…expect the annual anniversary of Jason’s departure to be difficult?
It happens every year! I struggle…I’m not doing it right; I can’t seem to make a decision on how best to spend that day. But the BIGGEST issue for me, I think is the dread of tht day. Sometimes it begins as early as mid-June, sometimes just the week before. The accident was on a Friday, so typically by Monday of that week I am not myself. I fear the onset of THE day, which in itself is strange, because the anniversary day itself isn’t a big issue for me. It seems when the day itself arrives, I spend extra time with the Lord and usually go to the cemetery, which is not a common place for me. But on the 26th, I typically go and pray. I thank the Lord for the time we had him here with us. I Pray for those who were with us at his “coronation” service, those who wanted to be there or those who wished they had been. I ask God to bless them and draw them closer to Himself. In his last letter from camp, Jason expressed his desire to witness to his friends, so I pray his entrance into heaven will bring many into a life-giving relationship with our Savior. That time is always good for me. I sense God’s presence and peace there with me. A kaleidoscope of memories surrounds me while I clean the gravestone. Then as I embrace the lovely setting under the beautiful old trees, sun slipping through the leaves, I ponder the pastor’s words about this mortal body putting on immortality. This is a sweet time. Thoughts of heaven and being reunited cheer me.
So, why the angst when every summer I see this day approaching? I needed to come to grips with this dilemma. I was miserable. I prayed, I walked, I read scripture, I sought process, it’s because I’ve believed a lie. It can be quite a challenge to dig to the bottom. Finding the source makes all the difference, and confronting the fear exposes the lies. It was hard, hard work. It took me weeks to sift and sort through the tangled emotions.
My frustration revolved around the lack of a plan for THE day…June 26. I’ve always thought if the first anniversary had landed differently, we might as a family have dealt with it differently.
The first anniversary of the exact day of Jason’s home-going brought us to the same church where we held his service. This time it was a momorial service for little Paige. She was just a toddler and had died in a drowning accident. The service was sweet, Jesus met us all there and the family of God rallied around. The thing for us though, was we made no plans for our need to be together as a family unit in a meaningful way for us. In other words, we didn’t esstablish a tradition—we didn’t create a special way to commemorate Jason and our love for him on that day. I am painfully aware that Paige’s family does have a sweet tradition for that day. So, comparison has snuck in there too, which is a great seed for pain and a lie. The lie that I believed was, “You aren’t doing it right because you didn’t do it right the first year.
“Big Lie!”
The truth about June 26th 1993 is: We were exactly where we needed to be. It is important to come alongside someone who is grieving. We were exactly a year ahead of this dear family in the loss of a child. First Corinthians 1:3—4 became a call to action for me: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”
Being at Paige’s funeral reminds me of A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. I was able to view from the outside the same display of God’s precious promises to comfort the grieving that we experienced just one year earlier at Jason’s service. . God’ peace was palpable. Once again the eternal promises of God’s love and grace were clearly spoken of. The joys of heaven and eternity with our loving Heavenly Father and Jesus our Savior were clearly taught. These things were spoken, but it was more than words. When the Holy Spirit envelops a body of believers in His truth that we are loved and cared for by our Heavenly Father, words cannot express His presence. It was one thing to experience His presence for ourselves, but to see God’s grace in action again, this time as an observer, was so affirming and enlightening. God’s Word is true. He inhabits the praises of His people.
As time went on, Sarah (Paige’s mama) and I got together for coffee or lunch. I wanted to be there for her because I knew how important it was to have someone to share your grief with. Often as she spoke, I thought, “I have that in my journal.” Her feelings and experiences were a duplicate of my experience in many ways. When thay happened I went home and found the story in my journal, typed it up for her, and mailed it off. This happened quite often. She was so thankful. As a result, Sarah is one of the people who encouraged me to write this book.
Satan is such a liar! Oh, we did it right that first anniversary. Yes, we did! We were right where we needed to be. We stood by another grieving family even though our hearts were breaking. The enemy’s attack on the week of the 26th is meant to torture me and my family. His attempys to drag me back to the pain of those days are intended to slow me down in every way, to make me question myself and my Heavenly Father. Enough!
One solution for me will be to begin thanking God for Jason and our time together the minute sadness or fear want to sneak in. Worship is my response to the enemy’ attempts to discourage and hurt my mama’s heart. We sang the song, “Hail Jesus you’re my king, and your life frees me to sing; I’m gonna praise you all my days…” at Jason’s service. These words are still true. The day does not haunt me. We are blessed beyond measure. God is an ever-present help in time of need. Exposing the lie with the truth of God is priceless. The rest of the song goes, “Glory, glory to the Lamb…” And so I will praise Him.
