Today it has been one month since I was told the news about Lee. I am not sure that the time has really helped much, other than make it easier to ignore the pain. Being so far away from a group that was grieving with me made it difficult to really let myself mourn completely. It is easy to dull the reality of the loss and to get into the mindset that it is to be expected to not hear from Lee; he lives so far away and he's so busy. However, the little things always seem to remind me that he is gone. We had a midterm paper due last week in my systematic class and I kept thinking that I should call Lee and talk about the questions and see what he had to say, before remembering that is no longer a possibility. It was also hard to celebrate my birthday last week. It was so painful knowing that a birthday note was not going to come. That is the hardest part of all: knowing that he is no longer here to share the things of life with. No more consultations on theology, words of wisdom for life, a great big bear hug, birthday greetings, a friendly hello, etc. It is really only in these moments that the loss becomes real. In a way I am thankful that I can dull the pain in the time between these milestones, but that only makes the marked absence of Lee that much more difficult. I do not understand why God decides to take people before it seems to be their time. For this reason, I decided to write my systematic paper on the question related to the problem of evil. This is a problem that I cannot solve and I knew that full well going into the paper, but in my grief I needed to try to find comfort in God's providence, to find someway to continue to trust in the goodness of God. Writing the paper and latching on to the truth that Christ suffered for me and suffers with me, makes it easier to carry the burden of grief.
The pain lives on, however, and makes it quite difficult to want to continue the prayer practicum. Some days trying to talk to God feels like pulling teeth. I have little to say and often I feel like I am praying to an empty sky, unsure that my prayers are even heard. It is at these times that I am so thankful for the Psalms. This weeks assignment for the practicum has been to pray through the Psalms and I have found this exercise the most fruitful. I can't formulate words to express how I feel, which is okay because the Psalmist expresses them for me. Words such as, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart," resonate with me in such a real and profound way right now. I feel like God is so far away from me as one thing after another keeps knocking me to the ground. How long must I wait for the Lord to answer my cry for help and mercy? How long must I wait to be heard? How long must I wait for God to change me? I do not really feel like this month and a half of intentional prayer has brought me any closer to God. So far, it has only succeeded to make me feel the apparent distance from God that much more acutely. It is hard to feel alienated from God when trying to contemplate and celebrate the event which secured redemption for the world.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
Death and Life: Goodbye Lee Stover, but hello Remington
On Friday night, I learned that one of my best friends from college, Lee Stover, had passed away. Lee was an amazing friend and will be sorely missed. I met Lee in our sophomore year of college. He was the intimidating Small Group Coordinator who was going to be one of my leaders as I served as a Small Group Leader in the freshmen dorm, Baldwin-Jenkins. When I say Lee was intimidating, I don't mean that he was anything other than a huge teddy bear, but that he was HUGE. "A giant of man" as our friend Cheri has aptly called him. Lee was the sort of person that you could run into at your top speed and he would not budge at all (trust me, I tried this on a number of occasions. It was my favorite game to play with Lee). But his physical size was not all that was huge about this wonderful man. He also had a huge heart. He was a passionate friend, student, and above all, follower of Christ. His love of God was clearly evident in how he lived his life. He cared deeply about all he met and showed the love of Christ in every action. Not afraid to admit mistakes, but just as willing to stand firmly for what he thought was right, Lee was a man who lived out Micah 6:8 with all his heart. I learned from a friend that his former co-workers at Starbucks at which he worked during his year off between school and serving as a youth director were deeply shocked by the news. It has been about six months since he worked there, yet they still feel the impact of his life and are greatly saddened by his loss. That is only one of the many testaments to the lasting impressions that Lee left upon all those whom he met.
When I told my mom about Lee's death, one of the first things she said was, "he lived life." Not a truer word could be spoken about him. Lee definitely lived life. This was clear in how much he loved dancing. Boy did he love to dance. It didn't matter where you were at the time, if there was a good dancing song on Lee would dance to it. Whether it was on the dance floor, in the kitchen of his house, or in the aisle of a grocery store, if there was music and a girl, Lee would dance. One of my favorite memories was Lee's 21 birthday. We went out for drinks and in our somewhat intoxicated state decided we wanted food so went to a nearby grocery store. As we were walking down the frozen foods aisle, a catchy song came one. Lee took one look at me, grabbed my hand, and spun me into a dip. We then proceeded to foxtrot in the middle of the store. After a minute, I was dizzy from the combination of spinning and alcohol and so he turned and danced with our friend Bre who was with us.
He also loved to take adventures. If you proposed a crazy idea to him that was somewhat feasible, he would do whatever he could to make it happen. This is how we ended up driving down to Arizona during spring break of my senior year with another friend. We wanted to see a friend who had moved to Arizona and Lee wanted to make it happen. That week was full of crazy fun and good conversation. We camped in cold Utah, attempted to camp at the Grand Canyon, hiked around the Canyon, went to a spring training baseball game, played in the park on the swings, and just had a fantastic time. When we weren't playing, we were having deep and engaging conversations. Lee was always up for a good conversation, whether it was about life in general or about his love, Theology. During this trip, I read aloud The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis. This always triggered a conversation about God. I loved listening to Lee's insights on the things of God. We did not often agree in these conversations, which would sometimes get heated. When they did, Lee would always make a ridiculous statement about how he was better in some silly thing call me suckerfish and we would laugh. No matter how frustrated or angry we got with each other, somehow Lee always managed to bring us down from that and maintain a deep friendship. From the time I was privileged to spend with him, I knew he was going to make an excellent minister. I wish I could have seen him work with the kids in his youth group.
The thing that I will remember most about Lee, outside of his passionate and steadfast love of God, was his passionate concern for people. Lee was a fierce friend. I knew that no matter what he would go to bat for me if my honor or safety was on the line. He truly was a brother to me in this way. The last time I saw Lee during his visit to Western Washington over Christmas, he was concerned with making sure I was being protected and cared for at seminary. After a conversation full of jokes and a little bit of catching up, Lee stated that it was time to get serious. He said to me, "Sarah, it is time to be serious, I need to know that there is at least one guy in your life at Princeton who is looking out for you and making sure you are cared for. You know that if anything major happens to you, I will be there in a heartbeat, but I will be at ease with you being so far away if I know that there is someone to hold my spot for a while." He did not say these things because he believed I could not take care of myself, he knew that I could, but he loved and cared for me deeply and wanted to make sure that there were other people who did as well. I will always love and remember him for that.
Lee was a great man who will be missed by many. It is hard to come to terms with the neverness that death implies. A fellow seminarian who also went through a period of grief recently wrote, "It's the neverness that is so painful. Never again to be here with us -- never to sit with us, never to laugh with us, never to cry with us, never to teach us. All the rest of our lives we must live without you. And only our death can stop the pain of your death. I miss you. And I want you back." These words resonate so deeply in my heart and soul right now. I want Lee back. I want to hear his joyful laugh and his traditional greeting, "Hi friend." I want him to call my Shuyck and suckerfish. I want to dance a foxtrot with him. Celebrating my nephew's birth was bittersweet knowing that Lee would have rejoiced with me. I miss having him to be joyful with and cry with and just to live life with. And I must remember that the neverness is only true in this world. There will be a day when I will see my friend again and I rejoice in that fact. Another seminarian (different than the one quoted above) reflected on death by considering the idea of Jesus weeping. This has brought me great comfort to know that Jesus, God incarnate, is weeping with me over the loss of my friend. And this same Jesus, who weeps and mourns with me, has overcome death and has provided eternal life to those who believe. I know that Lee is dancing with Christ now and that brings me laughter and joy in the midst of my tears. I am so thankful that I had the opportunity to get to know this wonderful man of God. He has blessed my life in so many ways and I can't wait to see him again when we are both before the face of God. What a glorious day that will be!
Not only do I find joy in eternal life, but God has provided joy in the new life of my nephew, born at 8:13 March 1, 2010. It has been difficult to rejoice in birth while simultaneously grieving over death. I found it hard to be happy, but also difficult to be sad. I know I need to give myself space to really mourn Lee, but I also don't want to forever associate my nephew's birthday with death. I want him to have a life unto his own in my heart and mind. That is the challenge I face, but I know God is good and that he has given me Remington as a reason for joy despite my suffering. Remy will forever remind me that death is not the final answer, but that we are born unto new life and that life is life eternal. Praise be to God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!
When I told my mom about Lee's death, one of the first things she said was, "he lived life." Not a truer word could be spoken about him. Lee definitely lived life. This was clear in how much he loved dancing. Boy did he love to dance. It didn't matter where you were at the time, if there was a good dancing song on Lee would dance to it. Whether it was on the dance floor, in the kitchen of his house, or in the aisle of a grocery store, if there was music and a girl, Lee would dance. One of my favorite memories was Lee's 21 birthday. We went out for drinks and in our somewhat intoxicated state decided we wanted food so went to a nearby grocery store. As we were walking down the frozen foods aisle, a catchy song came one. Lee took one look at me, grabbed my hand, and spun me into a dip. We then proceeded to foxtrot in the middle of the store. After a minute, I was dizzy from the combination of spinning and alcohol and so he turned and danced with our friend Bre who was with us.
He also loved to take adventures. If you proposed a crazy idea to him that was somewhat feasible, he would do whatever he could to make it happen. This is how we ended up driving down to Arizona during spring break of my senior year with another friend. We wanted to see a friend who had moved to Arizona and Lee wanted to make it happen. That week was full of crazy fun and good conversation. We camped in cold Utah, attempted to camp at the Grand Canyon, hiked around the Canyon, went to a spring training baseball game, played in the park on the swings, and just had a fantastic time. When we weren't playing, we were having deep and engaging conversations. Lee was always up for a good conversation, whether it was about life in general or about his love, Theology. During this trip, I read aloud The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis. This always triggered a conversation about God. I loved listening to Lee's insights on the things of God. We did not often agree in these conversations, which would sometimes get heated. When they did, Lee would always make a ridiculous statement about how he was better in some silly thing call me suckerfish and we would laugh. No matter how frustrated or angry we got with each other, somehow Lee always managed to bring us down from that and maintain a deep friendship. From the time I was privileged to spend with him, I knew he was going to make an excellent minister. I wish I could have seen him work with the kids in his youth group.
The thing that I will remember most about Lee, outside of his passionate and steadfast love of God, was his passionate concern for people. Lee was a fierce friend. I knew that no matter what he would go to bat for me if my honor or safety was on the line. He truly was a brother to me in this way. The last time I saw Lee during his visit to Western Washington over Christmas, he was concerned with making sure I was being protected and cared for at seminary. After a conversation full of jokes and a little bit of catching up, Lee stated that it was time to get serious. He said to me, "Sarah, it is time to be serious, I need to know that there is at least one guy in your life at Princeton who is looking out for you and making sure you are cared for. You know that if anything major happens to you, I will be there in a heartbeat, but I will be at ease with you being so far away if I know that there is someone to hold my spot for a while." He did not say these things because he believed I could not take care of myself, he knew that I could, but he loved and cared for me deeply and wanted to make sure that there were other people who did as well. I will always love and remember him for that.
Lee was a great man who will be missed by many. It is hard to come to terms with the neverness that death implies. A fellow seminarian who also went through a period of grief recently wrote, "It's the neverness that is so painful. Never again to be here with us -- never to sit with us, never to laugh with us, never to cry with us, never to teach us. All the rest of our lives we must live without you. And only our death can stop the pain of your death. I miss you. And I want you back." These words resonate so deeply in my heart and soul right now. I want Lee back. I want to hear his joyful laugh and his traditional greeting, "Hi friend." I want him to call my Shuyck and suckerfish. I want to dance a foxtrot with him. Celebrating my nephew's birth was bittersweet knowing that Lee would have rejoiced with me. I miss having him to be joyful with and cry with and just to live life with. And I must remember that the neverness is only true in this world. There will be a day when I will see my friend again and I rejoice in that fact. Another seminarian (different than the one quoted above) reflected on death by considering the idea of Jesus weeping. This has brought me great comfort to know that Jesus, God incarnate, is weeping with me over the loss of my friend. And this same Jesus, who weeps and mourns with me, has overcome death and has provided eternal life to those who believe. I know that Lee is dancing with Christ now and that brings me laughter and joy in the midst of my tears. I am so thankful that I had the opportunity to get to know this wonderful man of God. He has blessed my life in so many ways and I can't wait to see him again when we are both before the face of God. What a glorious day that will be!
Not only do I find joy in eternal life, but God has provided joy in the new life of my nephew, born at 8:13 March 1, 2010. It has been difficult to rejoice in birth while simultaneously grieving over death. I found it hard to be happy, but also difficult to be sad. I know I need to give myself space to really mourn Lee, but I also don't want to forever associate my nephew's birthday with death. I want him to have a life unto his own in my heart and mind. That is the challenge I face, but I know God is good and that he has given me Remington as a reason for joy despite my suffering. Remy will forever remind me that death is not the final answer, but that we are born unto new life and that life is life eternal. Praise be to God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!
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