overcome.

It's nearly two o'clock in the morning.  My boys are sleeping soundly, I can hear Brad breathing softly in the bed next to me...I should be sleeping.  My body is exhausted, but my mind won't follow it's lead.  So, I crawl out of my warm bed and stumble into the living room.  I find my Bible and search for comfort.  It's one of those nights when sleep won't come, but grief does. 

I miss my parents terribly.  My heart aches for what should have been.  It simply wasn't supposed to be this way. Who would ever imagine that within 15 months both of your parent's would die?  It simply wasn't in my plans...or theirs, for that matter.  Still, I find myself here...in this place of grieving, in spite of my well-laid plans.

Grief is such a strange road to walk.  At times, I am completely at peace.  I am confident that my Mom and Dad are with Jesus.  There is simply no greater comfort.  I know because of His saving work on the cross, I can be with them again someday in Heaven.  While there is tremendous peace, it doesn't erase the pain of loss.  It's a source of comfort - but, not a cure. 

Some days, it's as if a tsunami of grief and sadness threaten to overcome me.  Usually, these feelings creep into my mind late at night...when the duties of my day are finished.  My hands are idle, but my mind is not.  At times, I struggle to discern if this is simply the way of grief or if it's a spiritual battle.  Is the enemy whispering worry into my heart and mind?  I am being tempted to replay the past instead of looking to the future?

At times, I feel simply overcome with grief.  The loss is tremendous. The pain goes deep.  I enjoyed a great relationship, a friendship, with my Mom and Dad.  They loved me, my husband, and my little boys so well.  I miss their support and encouragement.  I miss the way my mom would celebrate with me when one of my kiddos accomplished something.  I miss my dad saying, "Well, hello girls!"  when he walked into our house to find my boys waiting for him to arrive.  I miss my mom helping me clean the kitchen and folding laundry when she visited...she wanted to bless me. 
My mind is flooded with images of my parents tonight.  I can see vividly my sweet mom's face as I prayed with her just before her surgery.  While she would miraculously survive the complicated procedure to save her life...I would never really see her again.  Days later, we learned that she had no brain function.  She was already gone.  Shocking - she had been healthy just days before.  I'm overcome with sadness.

I remember walking into my dad's hospital room just eleven months later to find him attached to all sorts of wires and tubes.  He had suffered a massive heart attack.  The cardiologist explained that he had literally suffered from a "broken heart."  The physical heart is enlarged as a result of some major emotional trauma.  Typically, the heart returns to normal size within a couple of months.  Not so with my dad.  He suffered physically for months, but managed to make some unforgettable memories with his family along the way.  We all showered him with love and he showered us, too.  In my mind, I can see him sitting in a wheelchair in the cardiologist's office, waiting for his pacemaker to be turned off.  He had made peace and he was ready to go home to Heaven.  The tsunami of grief threatens to overwhelm me again. 

After wading through the sadness, hot tears on my cheeks, and a heaviness in my heart...I realize that I am not overcome.  Grief and sadness may threaten to rob me of my joy, but it's impossible.  I will not be overcome because of Jesus.  His death and resurrection have overcome death and despair.  Jesus has taken my sadness, grief, and sin as His own...and overcome death forever.  Even the most powerful feeling cannot change that.  Thanks be to God.

"I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”  

John 16: 32-33

More.

Calvin Lee “Bud” Sherrow, 70, of Hagerstown went home to Heaven on November 16, 2011.  

 He was born January 7, 1941 in Richmond, Indiana to Joseph Sherrow and Betty (Sherrow) Parrett. 

Bud earned his GED and went on to serve in the United States Army.  He served overseas and had fond memories of his time spent in Germany and Korea.  Following his service to his country, he returned to Richmond.  He worked at Kemper Cabinet Company for nearly 38 years, retiring in 2003.

Bud married Judy Hunter Sherrow on October 7, 1967 and welcomed three children into their family.  Bud was a loving husband, father, and grandfather.  He was a loyal brother, uncle, and friend.  Bud was happiest spending time with his family, making memories with his grandchildren, reading, and gardening.

Bud is survived by his children: Jeff (Laura) Sherrow of Hagerstown, Tony Sherrow of Richmond, and Christina (Brad) Johnson of Wilmore, KY;   his nine grandchildren: Ashley Sherrow, Morgan Kincaid, Zackery, Grace, and Lillee Sherrow, Sam, Luke, Caleb and Matthew Johnson.  Also surviving are his siblings: Harriet Clark of Franklin, IN, Charlie Parrett (Carol) of Richmond, and Carl Parrett (Sandy) of Richmond.  He also leaves an aunt, several cousins, nieces, and nephews.    He was preceded in death by his wife, his parents, his stepfather, Ed Parrett; his sisters, Joan Clapp, Carol Simpson, and Brenda Riddle; and his grandsons Dylan Sherrow and Austin Sherrow. 

A celebration of Bud’s life will be held at First United Methodist Church at 318 National Road West in Richmond on Saturday, November 19^th at 10:00 am.  In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to Gleaners Food Bank at 3737 Waldemere Ave. Indianapolis, IN 46241 or www.gleaners.org.

This is my dad's obituary that will appear in our hometown newspaper.  The words are all accurate and true...but very inadequate.  He was much more than the information contained in those paragraphs.  

I have been thinking about how by "worldly" standards, my dad lived a pretty unremarkable life.  Aside from his military travels, he lived and died in the county where he was born.  He got married to a nice girl, raised three kids, worked at the same job for 38 years...nothing really "exceptional" about his life - in fact, he would seem to be a very ordinary guy.  

However, what most folks don't know is that my dad really was extraordinary.  He and my mom were the most generous people I have ever known.  While they were never wealthy - they always gave as if they were.  Honestly, I can remember my folks giving/loaning money to people my entire life.  My mom was always volunteering my dad to do things - like delivering Christmas gifts/dinner to someone who had none, helping to fix someone's leaky sink who couldn't afford to pay a plumber, restoring an old bicycle to give to a little neighbor girl who didn't have one, driving my grandmother to play bingo with her friends (grin), fixing someone's car or furnace, and he even helped to paint my mother-in-law's home.  My dad's heart was broken when our childhood friend's young son died of SIDS...the only child and apple of his parent's eyes.  They wanted to donate all of his things.  They gathered up his crib, his toys, his clothes...and my dad went to pick them up and deliver them to the donation site.  He told me about how sad he was for the young parents and how difficult it was to see all of the things that this little guy should have used for a long time to come.  

My dad was much more than a blue collar guy from Indiana...he was a care-giver, he was an encourager, he was a story-teller, he was decent, he was loyal, he was a good man, he was the most patient person I have ever known, he was a very attentive grandfather - he really knew his grandchildren, he was amazing.  He was more than just an "ordinary man" - he was my dad.

Sweet Gift from Heaven

Today is my birthday.  I am not really certain exactly why I have been missing my mom more than usual today...I mean, other than the obvious fact that she gave birth to me.  {grin}  I guess few people get as excited about your birthday to the degree that your mom does.  I have just been missing her...wishing I could talk with her or work on some "project" around the house together or just sit and delight in my little boys as they play.  My day has been full of blessings.  Sweet hugs and birthday wishes from my little boys, tender kisses from my biggest boy, and cards from dear friends arriving in the mail.  I just miss my mom.

After picking Luke up from school {he is in a half-day kindergarten program}, we needed to make a quick trip to get some dog food for Rocky.  On our way home from the store, Matthew and I had the following conversation:
Matthew:  Mommy, I am sad.
Me:  Why are you sad, buddy?
Matthew: Because I miss my Gran. {whimpering}
Me: Oh, sweet boy, I miss her,too. 
Matthew:  I want to hug her.  Do you want to hug her, Mom?  {wiping tears from his sweet cheeks}
Me: I sure do, Matthew.  If Gran were here with us, she would want to hug us, too.  Maybe we will feel better if we hug each other.  Do you want me to hug you when we get home?
Matthew:  Yes!  Is Gran in Heaven, Mom?
Me:  Yes, she is Matthew.  She is having a wonderful time there.  No one ever gets sad, or sick, or scared.  It's such a great place, no one ever cries. 
Matthew:  Is she with God and Jesus?
Me:  Yes, she  is.  Wouldn't it be wonderful to be with God and Jesus?
Matthew:  Oh, yes!  I want to be with God and Jesus in Heaven.  What is Gran doing in Heaven?
Me:  Oh, she is singing songs about how wonderful God is...she is singing with her friends, with all kinds of other people who love God.
Matthew:  {very excitedly}  I want to sing songs with God and Jesus!  I want to do that after I am old and I die and go to Heaven.  That would be great!  I will sing with Gran, too!
Me:  That sounds wonderful, Matthew.  What a special gift to be with God and everyone else you love in Heaven one day.  I want to be there with you, too.
Matthew:  Yes, Mom!  And Daddy, and Sam, and Luke, and Cal.  We will all be singing in Heaven. 

So, that is how my Mom managed to give me a gift on my birthday...reminders of the sweet promise of Heaven spoken from my sweet three-year-old's heart.  Thank you, Mom.  I love you, too. {grin}

This photo was taken on Caleb and Matthew's second birthday...January 25, 2010 (incorrect date on photo)