• 14Jun
    Categories: Grieving Comments: 5

    I should be jumping for joy.  I should be so excited that I can hardly sleep.  Here I am, in this fantastic house that dozens of people have helped to build for me.  It’s much fancier than anything I could have ever afforded.  I would imagine that there will be those who struggle with jealousy and wonder why God doesn’t bless them the same way. 

    I see the cost.

    Not “cost”, as in “price”, but the cost of people’s time, their sacrifice’s financially, their bruised thumbs and bloody knuckles, and their grief.  Many people who have helped me have also lost, whether it be a loved one, a house, a pet, a friend, the list goes on.  The loss of Dan, my husband, friend, companion, co-worker, and provider, is what prompted this whole project.

    I’ve never moved without Dan that I can remember.  I lived in the same house from the time I was 6 till I married Dan.  Then we moved about once every year.  =)  It’s funny, this house isn’t full of memories of Dan, but it does seem full of the loss of Dan.  Just sitting here in this bed,     alone,     I look across the room and it just feels so empty.  He’s not sitting there working on his computer.  There isn’t even a plate of food cooling off, waiting for him to get back from the bathroom.  The closet is empty of his clothes.  The bathroom is missing his razor and toothbrush.  His shoes aren’t sitting beside the bed waiting for me to trip over them in the wee hours of the morning.  The emptiness is so tangible tonight.

    The kids asked me where we were going this morning and I said, “We are going home.”  And then I cried.  Home is where the heart is.  My heart is broke.  I wanted to run away.  The desire to turn the van around and drive to West Virginia was nearly overwhelming.  But that’s not home any more either.  Dan’s not there any more than he is here.  No offence to everyone who worked so hard to build this house for me, but I would give up this mansion in a blink of an eye if I could have my Danny back.

5 Comments to The Cost

  • Dear Liisa,
    I totally understand – of course you would gladly give it all up if you could just have Danny back. There is nothing wrong with that thought. I miss him, too. However, when you talk about cost, I am reminded of the cost of Jesus’ sacrifice. The amazing thing is that He did not have to go through with it – He could have stopped it all at any time – but He chose not to. He chose to bear the cost so that we can have hope – hope of salvation, hope of seeing loved ones again, hope of seeing Jesus face to face, and hope of joy in this life. But there is always cost to loving. When I see how people have overwhelmed me (and you) with their help in so many ways, I see love. We are so blessed to be part of the body of Christ. We are blessed to have a large supportive family – immediate family, in-laws, and out-laws! I was talking to a woman at the rescue mission a few weeks ago – when she was a teenager, she lost her dad, she lost her mom a year later, and then she was put in foster care and separated from her brother and she has never seen him since. I sat there thinking how blessed I am. God has not deserted us. I am grateful for a Heavenly Father who continues to love us and did not count the cost. So praise Him and thank Him every day – for life, for 7 wonderful years with Danny, for children, for parents, for brothers and sisters, for extended family, for neighbors, for church family, for friends all over the the world – you are very blessed! And I, too, want to say thank you to the many who have contributed towards your house in so many ways – I don’t know who all they may be – but I am grateful for all they have done. There is no way the cost of what they have done can ever be repaid, so all we can do is say thank you and look for those opportunities when we can bless someone else. I am very happy for you that you are able to move into the house. Now it is up to you to make it a house full of wonderful memories for your children!

  • There is a song that one of our friends gave us when Ian died, by Mercy Me. I thought of you and Danny.

    You’re in a better place, I’ve heard a thousand times
    And at least a thousand times I’ve rejoiced for you
    But the reason why I’m broken, the reason why I cry
    Is how long must I wait to be with you

    I close my eyes and I see your face
    If home’s where my heart is then I’m out of place
    Lord, won’t you give me strength to make it through somehow
    I’ve never been more homesick than now

    Help me Lord cause I don’t understand your ways
    The reason why I wonder if I’ll ever know
    But, even if you showed me, the hurt would be the same
    Cause I’m still here so far away from home

    In Christ, there are no goodbyes
    And in Christ, there is no end
    So I’ll hold onto Jesus with all that I have
    To see you again

    And I close my eyes and I see your face
    If home’s where my heart is then I’m out of place
    Lord, won’t you give me strength to make it through somehow

    I’ve never been more homesick than now

    Looking forward to going HOME!

  • I know what you mean, West Virginia isn’t home for us anymore either, but I have a longing to go “home” . I feel like it should be. I am so happy for you that you are now in your Home. In time it will begin to feel like home, and you will fill it’s walls with wonderful memories . And Dan is very much in that house with you . Just look at all those precious babies he gave you to remember him by. He’ll never completly leave you. Love and prayers, Kelly