Stories about hope

Philippians 4: 4 – 8

Always be full of joy in the Lord. I say it again – rejoice.

Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. 

The Lord is near (to the brokenhearted).

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving

let your requests be made know to God

And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Chris Jesus.

Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and in anything worth of praise, dwell (think on) these things.

One of my favorite verses. Even when it feels like there isn’t anything good going on to think about.

This post is the hardest one to share. I want to honor my sister yet still tell the truth. I want you to understand that I am not perfect. This one hurts. But I need to write – I need to say it out loud. I think that is the only way I can begin to process my sadness. I’ve been sad for a long time.

“But wait” you may say. “Why is your blog titled Invincible Joy?”

Because I believe you can have Joy in the midst of immeasurable sorrow. Not glee, not happiness, not laughter. But a steadfast, deep down, unexplainable Joy. I also believe that one day, I will stand in the presence of my savior and when I see his face, everything will make sense. Even this.

August 9, 2019 

I was stopped at a red light on my way home from work. I picked up my phone to see if I had missed any calls. I hadn’t. 

There was, however, a notification that I had a message from a very dear family friend. Joanne. 

I hadn’t spoken to her in a long time. She was my older sister’s best friend. Jody grew up with us in the San Fernando Valley and when life got tough, she was my sister’s refuge. 

The news was horrible.

“Edie, It’s Jody. I wish I didn’t have to contact you this way.”

Earth-Shattering, heart-breaking news.

Becky had passed away sometime that morning.

I messaged my number and asked Jody to call me. I answered the phone and listened.

I was stunned.

Her sweet voice giving way to immense pain.

Becky was to her, a sister.

Life made them friends, but they became each other’s family. 

I don’t know how I made it home. I don’t remember even driving. I was numb. My ears were ringing. My stomach twisted and turned. My eyes were stinging. 

As I listened to her explain what the kids thought had happened, I started to gasp for air. I was reeling. My only comment I was able to give, an occasional “Oh no” 

At the end of the conversation, I asked Jody to please give the kids my cell phone number (all of our communication had been through Facebook at that point) 

I told her I loved her. I don’t really remember if I even said that. It feels like I did, so there’s that. 

I made it home and was safely in my garage when the dam broke. 

My husband arriving home at almost the same time.

I just sat in my car, sobbing. 

Even now, typing these words, I feel the hot knife of sorrow tightening in my throat. 

Getting out of his truck he immediately saw that something was wrong. He opened my door and I somehow blurted out what had transpired. 

I sobbed and sobbed as he stood next to me. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry”

Our relationship was a rough one. It was filled with pain. There were several times when I thought it had been broken beyond repair growing up. 

Becky and I had had a falling out. She hadn’t been speaking to me.

It started well before our sister Dori passed away. 

It was not uncommon for us to hurt each other. 

I’m not sure when or how our fights first started, but there were times in my childhood when I would have to move into my mom’s room because the fighting was quite volatile. 

My mom was worried I would get physically hurt. Separating us was the only thing my mom knew to do at the time. 

When Becky was hurting, I got in the way.

“Hurt people hurt people”

This was the truth.

She was hurt. I hurt her as often as she hurt me.

I was genuinely afraid for her at times. 

And genuinely afraid for me.

As we grew older, I learned to look past her anger and see her pain. 

She had the light of her life snuffed out at the tender age of 10. 

The person she was the most like in our family, the one she looked like, the one who understood her best. 

He was gone.

I know how my dad’s death had hurt me. 

In my early years It was always about me and what I lost. I was selfish. I expected my siblings to acknowledge my pain, but they just couldn’t. 

They were also just kids. They were also trying to survive the loss of our hero Dad. 

As I grew up, I realized I was not the only one suffering.

Becky came to my church one Sunday; it was Father’s Day. As our Pastor spoke, I heard quiet sniffles next to me. It hit me like a ton of bricks. 

“She misses Dad.”

She was spinning. We all were. It’s not an excuse. It’s just the way it was. 

My senior year in High School we made some gains in our relationship. 

I had just come home from a trip with my youth group. 

We spent the week talking about loving those who are hard to love. Those who hurt us.  The lessons I learned were going to be tested. 

I had just returned home, barely walking into the garage and she was there almost as if she were waiting for me. How do I love my sister who yells at me? I haven’t said two words. I was just there. 

This time She was yelling because I didn’t lock up my 10-speed.

We didn’t communicate well in our family. We didn’t talk, we didn’t use words. Emotions were always hot so we yelled. 

We used angry words most of the time. 

So, she yelled at me. Normally I wouldn’t know what to do, what to say. I would be terrified to yell back. 

I was terribly afraid of a fight. She was not.

One thing about my sister, if you need someone in your corner. You want it to be her. 

This time however, I stood calmly until she was done. Silently praying, “God, help me show love” 

Before I knew it, I was calmly thanking my sister for her concern toward me and the safety of my beloved 10 speed. 

“You’re right, I should lock up my bike better”

And that was how the fight started.

Just kidding.

She looked at me completely stunned.

I quietly locked up my bike, gave her a smile, and headed into the house. I did walk rather briskly. I must admit I was fearful that she might be following me. I walked to the safety of my mom’s room and plopped on her bed. 

“Hello Edie, how was your trip?” 

My mom was happy to see me. I was happy to have a witness if a crime were to be committed.  

“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” Proverbs 15:1

That was the first step toward a somewhat healthy relationship. 

We spent the next 10 years in learning how to be sisters 

It was amazing what a kind word or gentle answer can do. 

We didn’t have a perfect relationship, but it was better. 

Unfortunately, as years passed our relationship began to suffer again. 

Thankfully, when she started her family, she needed help from time to time. I loved being an Auntie. I was thrilled to help her watch my nieces and nephews. 

We had big disagreement as adults after I got married regarding the care of our mom. 

Another misunderstanding shortly after our mom passed. 

These involved more than I can say but they resulted in heated arguments and words that could never be taken back. 

Later The fault line completely fractured, and it seemed the damage was done. 

I begged forgiveness many times over the next years, sent letters, sent messages, tried phone calls. 

It just wasn’t to be. And it made me really sad.

July 18, 2017

I received a message 

“I’m not open to discussion. But I feel like I don’t get it. No preaching, ok? Just saying hello.”  

I replied “Hello, when you are ready, I’ll be here waiting.”

I waited. Sent a few more “Hello’s” Nothing. 

Two years went by, and now she was gone.

A heartbreaking loss.

Despite years of regret, I am reminded of the goodness of God. I do have so many good memories of my sister. We had adventures and laughter.

The backyard at our Valley Home was our “Set” where we were staring in our favorite TV shows. She loved Starsky & Hutch & Dukes of Hazard. I loved Emergency. Our trusty wagon was our fire truck. Our couch was the General Lee.  

Every Fourth of July, we would sit in our backyard and watch fireworks together. Our bodies covered in sunburns, my shoulders covered in blisters She loved pretending she was wearing fancy gloves and clapping like a high society lady. 

During breaks from College I would head to where she lived and worked with her on the Christmas tree farm that she managed. She taught me how to drive a tractor. I loved driving that thing. 

She nursed me back to health the first time my back completely gave out. I spent weeks on her floor on a sleeping bag. She would drag me as close as possible to the bathroom so I wouldn’t have to crawl so far. 

Whenever I felt the need to practice up on my Auntie skills.  She let me take her kids to Disneyland, Knotts Berry farm, or skiing in Wrightwood. She trusted me with the greatest treasures of her life. 

She even named her puppies after all the boys I had a crush on in college. We had a lot of good memories. Not everything was hard. The hard things just stick more. 

This is what I wrote on Facebook the night she passed:

“My sister Becky passed away in her sleep sometime early this morning. 

Becky was the second youngest in our family of 5 kids. 

Becky loved animals and babies and the feeling was always mutual. She loved to bring home sickly animals to care for and was always trying to convince my mom to keep stray dogs or cats. 

She was strong of mind and stubborn of will, my dad’s spitting image and the twinkle in his eye. 

She and my eldest sister Dori were the best of friends. And now they are together again, I’m sure there is lots of laughter. 

They always knew how to make each other laugh. It’s hard to imagine life now without both.

My heart is broken for her kids, her grandkids and for her best friend forever, Joanne. 

My older brother Robert, sister Christina and I are in shock, we are trusting that nothing is a surprise to God. I believe Becky loved the Lord and because of that she is standing in His presence. I can’t imagine what she is thinking. 

It’s hard to process that I have lost another sister. 

I keep hoping I’m imagining what has transpired today. There are many things left unsaid – I loved my sister immensely and I know she loved me just the same – we just had a hard time saying so. 

She was far too young and gone far too soon. And as you can imagine I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this.  We all are.

Her sons and daughters are strong like their mama, and they will need every bit of that strength to get through the coming months, days, and years. Praying God is very near to all of us while we look forward to that great day when we all get to Heaven. 💙

#OForGraceToTrustYouMore #HeavenIsBetter”

I have my own set of “If only’s” that play on repeat in my mind. I’m so thankful that God knows my heart. He really helps me to deal with this feeling of “It’s all my fault” when I think about our relationship (or lack thereof) 

“I thank my God in all my remembrance of you” Philippians 1:3

I love you, Becky. See you soon