Because She Believed - A Story of Faith and Hope
Our little waiting room had become our quiet refuge as we sat bound by the inevitability of the unknown. My two worlds, which had remained largely separated over the preceding two months, were converging into a common experience. They would soon merge into one combined reality. My time spent wrestling with God, although an intimate and powerful experience, had not intruded into my normal daily life until now.
As I considered how the two parts would reconcile, I marveled at the delicate touch of God’s Spirit as He blended them together in perfect harmony. It was as though He was a conductor, expertly guiding the orchestra of diverse experiences into one beautiful moment where all the distinctive parts were coming together with one voice to proclaim God’s glory.
I turned to Julie and said, “We need to pray that if it is God’s will, He will take this trial from us, but if not, then His will be done.”
She looked at me with tears in her eyes, and said, “I can’t pray that… I want my baby to live… that’s all that I’m praying!”
I hugged her, saying, “I know, babe, but sometimes God has bigger plans than we can imagine… and I think this is one of those times.”
I was more than a little surprised that instead of slugging me, she responded, “I know, but I’m not ready to let her go.” I was not sure if she understood what I was saying in the context of our current circumstances with Kristen or if she was responding to the general providence of God. Either way, I did not feel led to continue the conversation any further at that time.
It had been exactly two months since that Easter evening when we had all gathered to watch The Passion musical and my heart had been broken as I began to see Jesus’ death through the eyes of His Father.
Now, two months later, we were sitting in the hospital as the doctors worked tirelessly, hour after hour, trying to repair Kristen’s broken body. As her father, I was crushed, even though I had suspected this was coming since that Easter night as God broke my heart when He answered my prayer.
God and I had wrestled spiritually during those two months. I had refused to acknowledge that I might lose my child, the one whose tiny body I had held in my arms as we made our way home after the adoption. Her 16-month-old body was smaller than a typical 9 month old, and I had felt her labored breathing as her lungs worked overtime to do their job. Through many struggles (some physical, some emotional, and some spiritual) she had grown into a strong and healthy young lady who loved her Jesus with a passion.
During the weeks that I wrestled with God, I had held tightly to Kristen. I told her she had to ask permission to go anywhere but work, school, and home. She didn’t understand why I was holding on so tight. I couldn’t tell her I thought God was going to call her home in the near future. I just told her she needed to trust me and do what I asked.
The week before her accident, I had finally relented and heeded God’s voice. He said: “Give her her wings and let her fly.” I told her that God had said to give her her wings and let her fly. I asked her to please make wise choices. She smiled such a sweet smile and hugged me.
A few days later and we were at the hospital waiting. She had sent me a text just before her accident, saying that they were getting ready to leave Speed Street. Again I asked her to be safe. The last text I received from Kristen was, “Thanks, love you!” She was hit by a car shortly thereafter.
The words God spoke to me that finally led me to release my daughter to fly were, “You said you would commit everything you had to my care… Did you mean it? Because I can’t do what I need with her unless you set her free!”
I was still processing my thoughts of the last two months when we noticed two doctors dressed in scrubs coming around the corner behind our waiting room. It seemed to take forever for them to circle around to the entrance.
Kristen’s primary trauma surgeon, in a comforting way, reminded me of my old friend, Weng. He had the same humble bearing and gentle manner. I could see the heaviness of the news he was bringing to us weighing on his small frame. I wondered how many times he had to carry the weight of unwelcome news to a grieving family. I prayed that he would see the love of Christ in us and be comforted by the comfort we were receiving from the Father.
The surgeon told us he was sorry, but they were not able to save her. Before he could continue, Kristen’s biological sister, Jana, came into the waiting room with our daughter Grace. She had just arrived from Spartanburg, and Grace had gone to the elevator to meet her. When they heard the news, they and Kristen’s best friend, Brooke, rushed out of the waiting room crying.
Julie stood to go after them but then stopped. She opened a picture of Kristen on her phone and held it out to the surgeon. She said, “Are you sure this is who you are talking about?” The doctor looked at her with kindness in his eyes and said, “Yes ma’am, I’m sorry…”
Julie turned, looked at me, and said simply, “I’m going to find the girls.” I just shook my head okay.
It is amazing how the mind works when faced with a traumatic situation. Somehow I closed off my personal grief to seek out those who were in my care. Grace needed her mom, and Brooke and Jana needed support too. I couldn’t help Kristen any longer, but I could take care of those who loved her.
As I found each girl, they whispered words of disbelief. “This can’t be real.” “She can’t be gone.” All I could do was hug them. There were no words to make it better. Their hugs brought needed comfort to me as well.
-Julie
Before I asked the surgeon any questions, I told him that we all had faith in Jesus and that we knew Kristen was home with Him now. I said, “That is the most important thing for all of us!”
The doctor was very gentle and soft-spoken as I asked my questions regarding Kristen’s injuries. He said the injuries were severe and that she had significant trauma to multiple organs, the worst of which were her liver and heart. When they had controlled the bleeding enough to get a better view of the less prominent injuries, they discovered a tear in her heart that was in a hard-to-reach location. They called in the cardiac surgeon, but there was nothing he could do. She was too weak and the damage too severe.
Julie came back into the waiting room and sat down. She said Grace wanted to be alone, Jana was in the bathroom, and Brooke was in the hallway crying. I told her I had spoken to the doctors and would fill her in. I asked if she had any specific questions before the doctors left. She asked, “How was she when she arrived? Was she scared? Was she in pain?” The doctor acknowledged that he couldn’t know for sure, but she was likely in shock.
The doctors left us. Julie and I just stood there embracing each other. We were comforted by God’s promises regarding His care for His children. He said He would never leave us alone. We would never be separated from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus. We felt His love washing over us and knew Kristen was with Him now. She was experiencing the fullness of His intimacy, unencumbered by the frailty of her earthly vessel and the hindrance of sin in this fallen world.
Julie walked to the other side of the waiting room to speak with Kim and Rob. In the middle of our storm, I had almost forgotten they were still there. Rob stepped over to give me a hug as Julie did the same with Kim. We talked briefly before I left to find Grace, Jana, and Brooke.
I found Grace around the corner, sitting on the floor in front of the elevators. She was looking skyward with tears streaming down her face, telling God He couldn’t take Kristen away from her: “You know I still need her. Why did you take her now?” I held out my hand and helped her to her feet. We hugged like there was no tomorrow. I could feel her sobs as she buried her face in my chest.
As we turned and walked back toward the waiting room, we could hear Jana in the bathroom crying. Grace went in to check on her, and I stopped at the desk outside the waiting room. Grace returned shortly, and we went in to see Julie. I kissed Julie on the cheek and sat down to text our friends with the latest update. Many were praying for Kristen, and I wanted them to know she was now with her Father. The following is the text I sent:
To all our family of faith who joined with us to petition the Father… Thank You!!!
Kristen went home to be with the Father. She is resting in His arms
This was my prayer for our family as we waited for the outcome as the surgeons worked to save Kristen.
Luke 22:42: “Father, if it is Your will, take this cup away from Me; nevertheless not My will, but Yours, be done.”
God had a far better thing for her.
Philippians 1:21-23: “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labor; yet what I shall choose I cannot tell. For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better.”
By faith we proclaim:
2 Corinthians 5:1-8: “For we know that if our earthly house, this tent, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be clothed with our habitation which is from heaven, if indeed, having been clothed, we shall not be found naked. For we who are in this tent groan, being burdened, not because we want to be unclothed, but further clothed, that mortality may be swallowed up by life. Now He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who also has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. So we are always confident, knowing that while we are at home in the body we are absent from the Lord. For we walk by faith, not by sight. We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord.”
A nurse came by and asked if we wanted to see Kristen. We said yes; we definitely wanted to see her. The nurse told us it would take a little while to get her ready. She said it had been a long battle and Kristen had fought hard. She said they would have to leave the IVs and breathing tube in for the coroner’s review. She didn’t want us to be surprised that they were still there.
Before long, the nurse returned, and we prepared to go back to the operating room area. When we stepped in, we could see several nurses standing toward the back of the room. Most were clearly hurting over the loss of our baby girl. It was touching to see some with tears in their eyes and one who clearly had been crying. I am not sure, given the lighting, but it looked as if one nurse was still holding her hand and gently stroking it as we approached. It was a sweet picture—a gift from God to let us know our daughter had been loved on when we couldn’t be there.
My heart went out to the nurses. The care they had for my daughter while I was unable to be there comforted my heart. I thanked them for loving on her and caring for her and assured them that her faith in Jesus was strong and we had no doubt that she was resting in Him even now.
We gathered around the bed to pray. One of the nurses asked if it would be okay if they prayed with us. We said it would be more than okay; it would be wonderful. We gathered around my baby and held hands. I thanked God for His never-failing grace for us all and His tender care for Kristen from her very first hour of life. We continued in quiet prayer for a few minutes and then said our goodbyes to Kristen. We knew she wasn’t in her earthly shell any longer, but it still felt good to be there together and to celebrate her life.
We left the O.R. and went back to the waiting room. Julie had spoken with her brother, Jimmy, who was on his way to the hospital with Kristen’s grandparents. Given their age, we had thought it better to wait until we knew something before we brought them in.
I am not sure of the exact sequence of arrivals, but a short time later I looked up and noticed our pastor was there. This was somewhat unexpected for me since I knew he was out of town. I then noticed Grace’s boyfriend’s parents were there. Her boyfriend is in the Navy and stationed in Norfolk, Virginia. It was special to see them there supporting Grace on his behalf. I also noticed a chaplain who was talking with Julie and preparing to have water and snacks delivered to the waiting room.
After a long night of quiet and waiting, it was refreshing to see everyone pouring out love and affection to one another. Even in our most difficult moments, God’s love shines brightly through the darkness and lifts us above our circumstances.
Before long, Julie’s brother and parents arrived. Julie accompanied them and Jana to see Kristen and to say their goodbyes. I decided to stay in the waiting room and pray. I still wasn’t sure how or when I would tell Julie of my two months of wrestling with God. I trusted He would work it out in His timing.
Kristen was pronounced dead shortly before 3 a.m. on May 28, 2016. We finally left the hospital a bit after 6 a.m. I have no idea how we filled all that time, but we were in no rush to leave and wanted everyone to have time to work through their loss.
The loss of my daughter strengthened a core truth in my spiritual life: my peace and joy are not dependent on how God answers my prayers. My peace and my joy come from the intimacy of my relationship with Him. As I draw near to Him in prayer, His Spirit speaks to my spirit. His very presence sustains me and gives me hope and purpose.
I have never really understood the question concerning prayer that forms the basis for numerous books and Bible studies: What happens when God says no? When I hear that type of question, my spirit always hurts for those who are seeking its answer. I have learned that the answer to what happens when God says no is the same for me as when He says yes. The blessing comes from the intimacy involved in the asking and not necessarily from the answer. He is my answer. He is my sufficiency. I am not saying that I don’t hope the answer will be yes, only that the answer is less important than the surpassing joy of His presence.
“Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry, and he will say, ‘Here I am.’” ( Isa 58:9)
