A Divine Detour

A Divine Detour

Heal and grow in 2018.  Grief can lurk in your mind like a stalker. Being a survivor is hard. But one day you will take the blanket off and wipe the tears away. You must accept death with faith; faith is central. Please don't live recklessly.

Since it's Christmastime, grievers know normal expectation of joy can now be heart-ripping and all-consuming. Here is a story on a lady whose son died around the holidays. She took down the tree. She heard a voice say that was dishonoring her son. Then she sketched. Her hand had its own mind. She was multiplying numbers. She came up with a huge number and followed it by  a colon: 1. The one stood for the one second it took for Danny's soul to leave. The left number was the seconds he lived. No matter how horrible the second was, it was nothing compared to the millions of joyous seconds. The day of his death means nothing. The day of his birth means everything. The day after his birthday she brings stuffed animals to a hospital. Another lady on the day of her late mother's birthday gave food to a homeless man. "My mother went to heaven. Today is her birthday," she said. "We'd like to celebrate with you."

Grief is like a long and tumultuous winter season. But some continue Christmas traditions in honor of the deceased and realize the shortness of life on earth. Little pieces of your heart may have broken off. Recall the memories of the ornaments with children's thumbprints, cutting down the tree, the year with the unexpected snow, movies you saw and when you got bikes. Many Christmas Light Fight contestants continue on in honor of a deceased love one.

Some feel that the earth and sky have crushed them, but you will come out of feeling immersed in winter and darkness. Spring will arrive! Helen Keller said to keep your face in the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows. It's what the sunflowers do.  Grief melts in the sunlight of gratitude, says Billy Graham. Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark--Rabindranath Tagore.

A mother of a Sandy Hook victim said God wanted her to understand that her daughter's light did not extinguish. She needed to reach beyond herself and trusted Him  to make something good of the horror to heal. Long before her Emilie died, Jesus died and arose. Out of the darkness and grief of his death came new life. As grief and hate left her heart, there was more room to remember her daughter and treasure what she meant to the family.

Loss is illuminated as we witness people making plans with family, exchanging gifts or engaging in traditions. Solitude can offer a time of reflection to explore thoughts and synthesize information that can allow for growth. Try carving something out of the cold icicle by serving others. Some turn to advocacy.

One suggestion I read to deal with grief is to help your family communicate their emotions to each other with a “Feelings Chart.” Write on the chart “Today I feel …” and attach a piece of Velcro in the space after “feel.” (You may want to have a space for each family member). Then, draw faces or write down emotions on several circles of heavy paper and attach Velcro on the backs. Include as many different emotions as you can think of. Remember that younger children may need simpler words and pictures, but older children and adults will need a wide range of words to help them better identify and express their emotions. Here are some ideas which can be adapted to meet your needs: sad, lonely, angry, confused, guilty, bitter, rejected, helpless, afraid, worried, disappointed, resentful, jealous, inadequate, vindictive, depressed, lost, abandoned, betrayed, sorrowful, better, so-so, relieved, okay, not bad, hopeful, peaceful, reassured, thankful, secure, insecure, unloved, loved, encouraged, joyful.

 A doctor saved by her husband who was a nurse in the Las Vegas tragedy says nobody teaches you how to grieve. She goes breath by breath. Another man curled up for a while and had to say, "Left foot. Right foot. Breathe." A state representative called losing her father and grandfather plodding forward as if by remote control. One day you won't feel off balance, stumble or feel like you are moving in limbo. 

 Kathie Lee Gifford came up with a comforting song, "He Saw Jesus." It's about how her husband Frank looked when she found him dead. She knew he saw Jesus and he took his breath away because his mouth was open. Frank did not leave the house, but went home. She did not lose him; she knows right where he is. In Gloryland.

 There was a lot of coverage about the 20th anniversary of Princess Diana's death. Her sons had to wonder what would she want them to do? Grief can make you or break you. I didn't want it to break me,  Prince William said. He hears his mother saying, "Let's go." She's with him. He said it was like she was walking along beside them at her funeral procession. Her sons celebrate her life as they mourn the loss. The princes, had they known she was going to die, wouldn't have been so blasé on their last phone call with her, they said. Remember this when you hurriedly speak to people. You never know when the last conversation will be.

 A mother who lost her brother in a car wreck realized she had to do something to help herself. She walked a trail he loved and felt like she accomplished something. Like he had been there with her. She kept at it. She would ask the Lord to show her steps to mend her broken heart. It reminds me of a Bee Gees song.

 

The Andrew McDonough B+ Foundation honors the memory of Andrew, a 14-year-old athlete and an A student from Wilmington, Del. On Jan. 27, 2007, Andrew helped lead his team to victory in a Pennsylvania state championship soccer tournament. Within 48 hours, he was in cardiac arrest. The diagnosis was AML leukemia. The prognosis was grim. In fact, doctors didn’t expect Andrew to live through the night. Amazingly, Andrew fought for 167 days before going to heaven on July 14, 2007. Andrew’s B+ blood type became the perfect message — BE POSITIVE — to reflect how he lived his life and how he inspired others to do the same. Throughout his illness, Andrew inspired thousands to B+ and “Live Like Andrew.”

Welles Crowther's parents, with the support of a Michigan foundation, created the Red Bandana Project, a character-development program for classrooms, sports teams, camps and youth programs. He saved dozens of lives on 9/11. The Welles Crowther Red Bandana Run, a five-kilometer memorial road race, is held every October at Boston College.

Turn loss into drive as parents of hazing victims have to stop that nonsense on college campuses.

Leonard Fournette says he wished heaven had visiting hours. He's donated blood, spoken to wayward kids, learned to waltz and marched with his high school band to deal with grief and adversity.

Steve Johnson played in the French Open after his father's death three weeks earlier. He said he knew he was with him and raised him to be a competitor and a fighter to the last point, so he went on. Parents want their kids to make an impact. Jimmy Fallon said, "Mom, I'll never stop trying to make you laugh" after she recently died.

 There's power in imitation. Wear your late father's watch, said one story I read. It may help you subconsciously embody the traits you admire about him and how he lived. Some people can't give away clothes. They still wrap them around themselves to replace an embrace. Others make T-shirt or prayer quilts. They keep things because that is the way it was and is supposed to be. Empty racks bring fear. Some will want to leave out his slippers, his hat in the hall or rain jacket on the chair. It wouldn't feel like home without them. The poor can use some of these used items; they will treat them like new. For those who have died, everything is new in heaven. Death equals heaven and heaven equals pure joy with God, Guideposts said.

 Joe Biden has used focusing on the person his son Beau was rather than the loss. Biden hasn't taken the rosary off that his son Beau wore. Faithful rosary prayer helped Immaculee Ilibagiza grieve her parents, killed in the Rwandan genocide. "They're not living except in my heart," she said.

 Picture yourself at the dinner table laughing with your late spouse. Picture your spouse hugging you while you cry. “The greatest loss is the company of that person, having him there,” says a lady who lost her husband. “He had a favorite chair. You look over at that chair, and he is no longer in that chair. He was always there to lift me up if something was wrong.” Now picture yourself at the dinner table with Jesus. Picture yourself in your favorite room or chair with Jesus close by your side. Lastly, picture Jesus enfolding you in His arms, covering you completely with the sleeves of His robe and just pouring out His love into your whole being.

A couple takes their deceased daughter's photo with  them  and places in family photos. It makes them  feel complete.

 

Cemeteries interrupt the finest families, says Max Lucado. Cemeteries are seen as a place of loss, but can be a fervent reminder to seize the day was a  line on The Blacklist show.

 

Sometimes death is something good for someone in  deep suffering. Has cancer cobwebbed through a  loved one's body? Was it like a handful of sand  thrown inside of them that just goes everywhere? We are better because someone was here and   diminished because they are gone. Our loss is  heaven's gain. Your loved ones are up there   orchestrating things. You are going to miss hugs,  stories of the past and hope for the future, but rock-solid faith will help get you through it. Don't suppress   your feelings. But remember, the  only wrong thing to  say to others who are grieving is nothing. Psalm  69:20 says I looked  for sympathy, but there was  none, for comforters, and I found none. How sad.

 

Hobbled by grief? Rocked to the core? Wouldn't it be   nice to hear: I give thanks to my God, with every  remembrance of your loved one, my paraphrase of Philippians 1:3. Play Bible "roulette"--turn to  verses and ask how they might apply to your life, the way you think, speak or relate to people. Listen to "It        Is Well With My Soul" or other songs on K-LOVE.

 

"No matter what happens, I win," said my very ill aunt   who   saw  Jesus and asked for his healing. Whether God healed her or took her home, she  could not lose.  Heaven would not be a concession.   Heaven would not be defeat. I believe heaven  becomes more inviting by the minute. It is the title page in the book of eternity. You are with the son of  God, the prince of peace.

 

The local mother of a helicopter crash victim said she knew heaven was euphoric and her son was having the biggest party. When a local four-year-old girl died, her mother said she was instantly healed.

 

A Washington, D.C., lady donated her six-day old identical twin's body organs to various places and later visited them. She was in Boston and went to Harvard Medical School. They said infant eyes are unusual because most of us die older. They were very useful.  She said, "My son got into Harvard, and I'm an Ivy League mom." Then she went to Duke where his cord blood went. They are studying how anencephaly develops. That is how he died. Cytonet got his liver.  They are determining the best temperature at which to freeze infant liver cells for lifesaving therapy. They also said they were the only donor family who had ever visited. The family next went to the University of Philadelphia. They got Thomas's retinas. They had been waiting six years for a sample like his to study retinoblastoma. Her feeling of grief started turning to pride. She has written a book.

 

David Jeremiah says the death of a child is a period before the sentence is finished. Melissa Bauch said when she was grieving over her pregnancy loss every joyful expectant baby announcement felt like a tiny stab in the heart. It's almost like God gave us a shot of anesthesia so we could survive, said Steven Curtis Chapman after his daughter died.

 

Patton Oswalt said his life dimmed 50 percent with the loss of his wife. Todd Fisher, custodian of Debbie Reynolds and his sister Carrie's legacies, said the exhibit on them eases his grief. A widower featured on Steve Hartman's news segment said he felt an electric shock when he met his wife. He said he now suffers a beautiful memory in a museum he created in honor of her.  A boy featured on another Hartman segment lost his dad at 4. His mom died in her sleep shortly thereafter. He gives away toys to make people smile and gets the hugs he needs.

 

Luke Bryan, whose family has suffered much loss, said you may never get back to 100. When someone else is struggling, you've got to bring the casserole, he said. Secondary impact of loss is hard when those you think would always stand at your side are not as supportive as they'd hoped or not at all. (TAPS magazine)

 

Friends will help you move, but not come over for an emotional gathering, but Andy Grammer does just that. You, too, can propose a specific deed for the newly bereaved.

 

Many don't understand the deep hurt and do not prop you up because they don't understand until they've been in your shoes. It would be nice to have hugs when you are shivering and feel isolated, said Sheryl Sandberg. People are so afraid to say the wrong thing that they look at you as if you're a ghost--you're invisible and frightening. Her Facebook employees now receive up to 20 days of paid leave to grieve the loss of an immediate family member and up to 10 days after the death of an extended family member. The policy doubles the amount of time employees used to receive for bereavement.

 

Others may make it hard to be optimistic. You think you'll never be intact. Songs and scents may bring forth a vivid memory of the departed, but one day those will make you smile and see beauty. Take your time. Eventually you will help others see a glimmer of hope and comfort another as others come to you because they know you have lived it. I think we shed layers of denial, bargaining, guilt and anger until we wash them away and get to a veneer that makes us feel competent enough to let people think we are fine. God made the day 24 hours so we can cry alone at 3 a.m. or talk to our past loved ones above.

 

I'm sure love lives on, said Alan Pederson. His daughter was killed in an auto wreck.  "I reach for fallen stars. I look for any sign from where you are. I call your name out to the wind so I can hear your voice again. People think I'm crazy cause I talk to you this way. But you amaze me with the words I feel you say. You're the inspiration that keeps me strong. I know you're just beyond my touch. You're never really gone. So I chase butterflies…"

 

In an interview, he learned of the 4 Hs. The first one is hope. The second H is help.  The third is honor. There’s a gentleman in New Hampshire who every morning when he goes through the toll booth on his way to work, pays his toll and the car behind him, 35 cents, and leaves a card with the toll operator to give the next car that says this is in honor of his son.  And then that makes the fourth H healing when he sees somebody with hope, help and honor. The amazing thing about healing is that it is a process, he said. 

 

You may want to leave a coin on a headstone or at the grave meant as a message that you visited. It is a military tradition.

 

National Grief Awareness Day is Aug. 30 to bring the myths, cliches and stigmas of death out of the dark and into the light. Find it on Facebook. I also found this on Facebook. Grief, I've learned is really just love. It's all the love you want  to give but cannot. All of that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat and in that hollow part of your chest. The cuts and bruises will heal. Grief is love with no place to go.

 

Other holidays besides Christmas are hard, too. The signs and symbols of Halloween take on new meaning. Tombstones, skeletons, ghosts and other decorations may no longer be amusing for family and friends after the death of a loved one. This is mentioned in The Griever’s Calendar inspired by Jo-Ann Lautman, Founder of OUR HOUSE Grief Support Center. While most of us are waiting to see if the groundhog will see its shadow to determine an early spring, a griever is apprehensive about the prospect of six more weeks of their “emotional” winter.  Tax day is met with dread  if it is a reminder of “My dad used to help me do my taxes,” “This is the first time I’m listing myself as a widow” or “I have one less dependent since my child died.”  Grievers may not feel up to Fourth of July barbecues and fireworks. Attending a convivial gathering where no one mentions the person who died can be hurtful and isolating.  And, as one widower said, “I don’t want to celebrate my new found ‘independence.’"

 

Besides faith, I know there is just plain nothing I can do about death. When you go through a breakup, you can wonder if there is hope. I don't recall where I read this. Leaving something behind is one thing.  What we don’t consider is the grieving in the leaving. Yet, when we leave something behind, it will naturally leave a hole of some sort. Whether that hole be large or small, disorienting or desired, painful or painless, it is the now vacant space that was once occupied by whatever it is that we’re leaving.  Creating a space creates a measure of discomfort because we’re not used to a hole being where something else used to be.  On top of that, we’re naturally prone to fill empty spaces for the simple fact that they’re empty. Whatever the nature of the hole, we grieve the holes left in our lives.  Grieving a loss is accepting the hole. And sometimes the pain of accepting the hole is greater than the pain of the thing that once occupied the hole.

 

In the ensuing emotional trade-off that we find ourselves embroiled in, too often we chose to avoid the pain of the hole by not creating the hole in the first place.  Worse yet, in order to avoid the pain we often put back whatever it was that we had removed in the first place.  Leaving the past means grieving.

               

 

Jesus Has Unconditional Love/Expect the Unexpected--He Lives

I’ve always been attracted to the books and movies where someone had a near-death experience and saw Jesus or heaven. And I’ve always believed them.

Now, there is absolutely no doubt after hearing the story of my godmother, Aunt Sylvia LeBlanc.

In November 2016, she gave her husband, Roy, who I call “Saint,” some caregiving relief by asking to be admitted to Pontchartrain Health Center in Mandeville, where she had resided once before. She didn’t have a serious health issue, just was thinking of her husband getting older at 82 and weaker in helping lift her for getting around.

On Thanksgiving Eve, she developed a terrible cold and coughed continually. Her family was scared to get too close in fear of it being contagious, but they never isolated themselves from her. The staff got more worried. It did not ease up with any prescription given.  They wanted to order a dysphagia (swallowing test),  but Sylvia refused.

“At 81, I wasn’t swallowing wrong now,” she told them.

For two and a half months, her husband and children, Judy Achary, Roy LeBlanc Jr. and Eric LeBlanc, begged her to have the test.

One day the cough was so bad, Pontchartrain staffers called an ambulance and Sylvia was taken to Lakeview Regional Medical Center. Mucous was removed and steroids given, with a diagnosis of bronchitis. But Sylvia continued to cough days later.

After taking a shower, she slipped onto the floor, not a hard fall, but shortly very concerning. “I was out of it. I knew no one. I couldn’t talk,” Sylvia later recalled. Ten staffers worked promptly to revive her.

She was again transported to Lakeview, suffering a diabetic coma. She was admitted for one night and  they brought her around.

After examination and returning to Pontchartrain, she recalled exactly what had occurred and thanked all of the nurses and aides.

As time passed, the cough subsided. But again, staff called her husband and an ambulance another day when she fell ill again. This time she requested St. Tammany Parish Hospital.

Sylvia said she did not feel too bad, but received a pneumonia diagnosis. Immediate family visited as she was put on oxygen and received numerous injections. She became septic.

Later that evening, she was rushed to ICU. It was difficult to find a vein to draw blood for more testing and she was listed in serious condition, but her family kept it from her. She asked them about heart problems or a stroke and they denied both. Her heart was operating at 20 percent capacity even after receiving a bypass in 2013.

She could not eat anything except red Jell-O due to nausea. Her room stayed dark and family went home each evening, but she could tell something was really wrong as they visited one by one. They often had tears. “I did not close my eyes because of worry and all the medical attention,” she said.

Sylvia began to put two and two together and prayed harder than ever, cried constantly and called out to Jesus, her children, her relatives and cousin Tillie Maillho, who had recently had surgery and exchanged prayers with each another. Sylvia explained she wanted them to come see her. Tillie and Sheila Ladner and Velma Ruth Ladner, in her wheelchair, came from Mississippi.

“I was in my right mind,” Sylvia said, however, “automatic tears” streamed because she didn’t want her chest opened again.

“I could see and hear and knew either way I would have won. I’m a born-again, spirit-filled Christian and it was fine to be in His arms or live,” she said.

She hollered for her husband, children and grandchildren and their spouses and one of their fiancees, Dana, who had brought cookies. Eric and his wife, Norma, had adopted their grandchild, Gavin, 7, as their own. All prayed as did Father Dean Robins of Most Holy Trinity Catholic Church.  He performed last rites. That helped Sylvia expect healing and forgiveness if she headed to the heavenly home upstairs.

She said she felt good and she felt different.

Three or four hours later, Father Robins checked back and the family went to get something to eat.

A doctor made rounds and said something may be seriously wrong with Sylvia's heart. “That roused me up,” she said. Her hands were swollen where she could not open a finger. Her feet were heavy. Her body felt like a “ton of bricks.” It hurt to move her neck to talk to a visitor.

“I’ve got my own rock head,” she said. Getting down to the nitty gritty, she said she did not want to have a heart attack nor surgery, so she hollered for Jesus to hear her. Enough that she almost lost her voice. Staff did make sure she did not disturb other patients.

“My stomach was rolling and jumping with nerves,” she added.

Her husband and her children tried to talk her into the suggested heart catheterization that she kept dodging. Father performed last rites again on March 7. All held hands and he left.

The tears rolled again and Sylvia said she never prayed so hard. “Where are you, Jesus? I’m your child. I need your attention. I need healing.” She said she did not shut up.

Then right through the wall at the foot of her bed came Jesus. The former beautician describes him with dark black hair like her mother’s with an upward curl over each ear. He was a solid figure with an olive complexion and a serious look.

His white gown was "silky chiffon" with a gold round neck and gold belt. It had no collar. The bottom and the sleeves were flowing. “I observed him greatly and was so glad I got to see Him,” she said. "I will never forget it as long as I live."

He had nice shoes, not sandals, she added. She noticed green grass and that He walked on his tiptoes as if floating and He had a small waist. People gathered and Jesus parted the crowd to pray for the family, Sylvia said.

She told Jesus she was glad to see Him. He did not talk. He took his thumb and anointed her forehead  “one time, two times, three times.”

He turned eastwardly and left to go back to heaven like the way He came in. He asked no questions and is exactly who He is, she said, kind, gentle, loving, faithful, understanding, thoughtful, powerful and almighty.

Her family saw the exchange on her face. “It was not a dream or hallucination,” she insists.

Jesus had been asked by Sylvia to generally anoint her family as well, looking around the room at Roy Sr., Judy, Roy Jr. and wife Karen and daughter Isabella, Eric and Norma and Catherine and Joshua Murillo. “He looked to each of them and put a cross on their forehead with an anointing,” Sylvia said.

Sylvia saw her late father sitting in a green chair in the corner with a shirt and gray pair of pants. His face was red as it usually was when he was alive. “He was old, but became new and vibrant and his complexion changed after Jesus anointed him,” Sylvia said.

He was a Baptist deacon and her mother was Catholic. She added that her father appeared relieved during the incident.

She did not see her mother. She saw her late brother smiling and her late infant brother, too.

Judy felt the anointing in her chest. Gavin, in his head. He cried because he was overjoyed to see Jesus.

“Judy was grinning ear to ear, the biggest smile I’d seen in her whole life,” Sylvia said.

Jesus touched others as well. Sylvia said her pregnant granddaughter, Katherine Fish, felt it in Iowa.

Jesus grinned at Eric like he knew him, Sylvia said, explaining a story about how Eric was healed from epilepsy when he was 6 after receiving an anointing from evangelist Kathryn Kuhlman. Eric began to pray for others and the New Orleans newspaper deemed him “Little Preacher Boy.”

Eric now makes furniture and still knows his real father is also a carpenter.

The visit from Jesus either meant He was taking Sylvia home or a miracle was on the way. The family claimed the miracle and was very grateful.

Sylvia asked Jesus to bless her dog Pepe. She loved the golden terrier so much when he was alive. She then saw him run, jump, play with other dogs and act free as a bird.

“Jesus was so gentle,” she said. “He wasn’t in a hurry. He wasn’t angry.” In fact, Roy said the incident lasted about an hour.

Father Robins returned again and the LeBlancs told him what happened.

In her own way, Jesus revealed himself, Father said. In that moment she did have an experience “whether interior or through divine revelation, and to me, that’s good.

“In our suffering, that’s when God can come most readily. I do experience people being healed through the sacrament of the sick,” he said. Last rites are for one’s healing both spiritually and physically, he explained. Those receiving the sacrament may receive encouragement to continue to believe, heal and trust Him.

After the anointing, Sylvia finally ate--a big plate of red beans and rice, a New Orleans staple, mashed potatoes, tea and Coca-Cola. She asked for some of Judy’s Cheetos.

The children were happy and saw that their mother was changed immediately. Sylvia felt radiant, but the staff needed to prove it with tests.

Sylvia had an echocardiogram and recalls Amazing Grace playing in the room.

She was discharged in a week when all medical numbers proved normal. She underwent no heart procedure.  A pre-dialysis test was never completed and she planned to refuse dialysis anyway. It ended up not being necessary.

The news spread around the hospital and a patient named "Mrs. S" came by to ask for prayer. “She was touched by the story,” Sylvia said. “Jesus healed me.”

Sylvia has not walked in five months. “That’s coming,” she said. “I’m keeping my eyes on Jesus. It was the most beautiful experience in my life. Believe me. For this is the truth."

Author's note: My aunt has been a major religious influence on me, sending me spiritual books throughout my life, teaching me words like rebuke and suggesting evangelists to watch or read. "He who endureth until the end is victorious" is her favorite quote.

 Sylvia's Top Ten

1. Think positive. Put Jesus first in your life.

2. Believe and receive.

3. Give Jesus the glory.

4. Go to church all the time.

5. Expect the unexpected.

6. Keep your faith.

7. Keep your trust.

8. Read your bible.

9. Remember to accept Christ as your Lord and Savior, confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and you shall be saved, and unless a man enter the kingdom of God, he cannot see heaven.

10. Love one another. Daily pray for one another. Prayer is a direct communication to God.