• 08Jan

    Ever notice just how vital touch is?  Sometimes the loss of Dan is excruciating, and the thing that brings comfort is touch.  I can touch that quilt made with his shirts.  I can touch the picture of his face.  I can feel the warmth of a hug that a friend gives.  I can hold his baby.  It doesn’t even have to be something that was his . . if I can just feel something.  So many sensations seem lost . . .

    So much is lost.  My memories of my childhood (something he was not a part of) make me wonder about his memories.  He remembered things that his family didn’t and now those memories are gone.  I remember doing something one way and he remembers something a bit different or a detail I missed and now that balance isn’t there.  He talked with people, prayed for people, and cared for people I never even met.  Those relationships, the prayers, the love, . . all sucked into the void that his death created.  How can he be gone?  What does one do with a hole like that?  Sometimes I think that hole is so tangible that I can almost reach out and touch it.  And there is that “touch” again.

    My most vivid picture of him is in the hospital.  I see him laying there on that hospital bed all swollen with the fluids they kept pumping into him, lying so still, so quiet, so cold.  Even then all I wanted to do was touch him.  Almost like touching him, holding his hand, was enough to keep him from leaving me.  Looking back I feel a tremendous desire to go back in time and just hold on, make that last kiss a little longer, spend some more time with him the night he left, . . . but I am reminded that what I really want is to have that touch now and nothing I did then would make that touch available to me now.

    Oh Lord! Fill that hole so full that it is bursting with your love, grace and goodness..  Let me, and others, see you shining through this crack in my life.  You made that hole.  You created the desire, a nice cleanly cut hole, and then you filled that with Dan.  You planted him and his love into my life and it took root and spread.  And then you ripped him out of my life leaving a jagged tear and even more holes where you pulled out the roots.  Now I need you to heal that wound, fill up the crater that you have created.  Each of those roots that spread into so many areas of my life and wrapped themselves around me were yanked out, leaving me battered and bruised, weak and sick, and oh so empty.  I need your filling presence.

11 Comments to Touch

  • He will fill you Liisa…He is the only one who can. For He did create the hole…He did create Dan…He knows Liisa, He alone knows. I love you friend.

  • Save the email you wrote today, Jan. 8, 2009. God may be preparing you for a writing ministry for His glory.


    Wentworth Pike

  • I have to agree with Mr. Pike’s comment. I too have been thinking how the Lord might be preparing you for a writing ministry. Your words never fail to affect my heart. You are so honest in your pain. So many people try to cover their pain in hopes that it will go away. Openness and honesty are so refreshing….and a blessing. Plus, they better help us know how to pray for you and your family. Thank you for the blessing you have been to me. You amaze me…God’s stregth through you amazes me. I love ya, Girl!

  • I add my vote on that one, sweet girl. When you are to the other side of your pain publish a devitional or similar that can be an encouragement to other who are facing grief and do not know how to deal and heal with it. You are blessed to be able to express in this way. You are allowing us all to heal from the pain of Dan’s death. Our prayers are with you and your children often. A children’s version of your book would be awesome for the little ones who grieve in our world. I trust God will guide you if you are indeed to write a book. I want the first copy signed. Love you so much. Auntie Joanne and family

  • Dear Liisa,

    Those holes seem so large and never ending right now, but God has a purpose for each one of them. He will fill them, and you never know with who or what. Right now it seems that Dan is the only thing that could fill that hole, but remember what you said, the hole seems bigger and more jagged than before. God is preparing you to touch and be touched by so many more people. Healing will come, but you never know in what shape or size God will send it to you in. You are very sweet and very special in God’s eyes. You have a place in His heart and hand now just as each of your children do. “Weeping may last for the night – but joy comes in the morning.” Wait for your morning, dear sweet Liisa. It will come, and it will be more glorious and fulfilling than anything you can ever imagine. God bless you and keep you always.

  • Joy will come in the morning, Lisa. Although your ‘night’ may seem so long, morning will follow. Your writing is wonderful. You are so honest and I feel I am reading this right from your heart. At first I couldn’t imagine sharing your inner-most thoughts with the world at such a private time but already I have gained so much from what you have written. And for anyone else in a similar situation it must be and/or will be so comforting and reassuring. Don’t stop.

  • HUG!
    Liisa you are so right. God dug the hole and planted Dan. Now he will fill the same hole with loving memories. Some of those roots that grew continue on in your life and the lives of your children. God is using you in ways you may never understand.
    Praying for you.

    Love Suanna

  • Liisa,
    I know many people just added their vote, and I want to add mine, that you are touching all of us with your written thoughts. Be sure to save each entry somewhere safe. I love the book idea, which probably sounds ludicrous right now, but may touch many later in your life. I love you girl, and we are praying for you! I can’t imagine how deep the pain must be. Send a picture of little Caleb!! My favorite name for a boy, by the way, which I wish I could use and can’t because “Kayla” is too close of a sound. Love you tons!

  • Dear Liisa,
    You and I have never met, I know of you only through a common friend named Pattie Wenrick Carson. She had asked me to pray for your family. I have been reading your post that you leave every time that you write and it moves me. You see I am a women that has experienced a great loss in my life, the loss of a little girl. I know the pain of loss, we’ve just experienced it in a different way. If you need anyone who understands that deep hole, that you have just email me. You know, writing for me was the most healing thing that I could do. It’s been 5 years for us now since our little girl went to be with Jesus. I’m praying for you, and you are constantly in my thoughts. God is going to use you with the writings that you have, because you are showing the walk through the pain to get to the other side.

    In Christ,