Monday, July 28, 2008

My soul weeps

Teri and Ed at Bella Note in March. We had a wonderful evening, laughing and joking and watching our kids perform.
Teri and Rebecca at our house for Easter. We are playing cards, something the Hooks family and the Tarleton family loved to do together.

My soul weeps because of grief; strengthen me according to Your word. Psalm 119:28

I'm trying hard not to think You unkind
But Heavenly Father, if You know my heart
Surely You can read my mind
Good people underneath a sea of grief
Some get up and walk away
Some will find ultimate relief.
"Home Free" --Wayne Watson

It seems unreal to me that this is the second blog I'm writing in the span of a few weeks about the unexpected death of a missionary. Yesterday we received a call, and I could tell immediately that something was terribly, terribly wrong. Marc looked like he'd been shot. My first thought, of course, was Sarah Beth, who is in another country at a retreat for MKs. Marc reassured me that she was fine, and then I gathered that something had happened to our dear friend, Teri. Teri had been having some health issues and was scheduled for an angiogram on Wednesday. She woke up early yesterday morning not feeling well, and she died unexpectedly as they were trying to get her to the hospital. She is 49, and she leaves behind a beloved husband and four children who were her crowning glory. She also leaves behind a huge hole in the hearts of those of us who served with her in Russia and in the Central and Eastern Europe field. When we told John-John and Hannah that Aunt Teri had died, they literally flung themselves face down and howled. I have never heard that kind of sound coming from my children. It was terrible, to say the least. We were able to talk to Sarah Beth via skype (thank you to Uncle Seba and Aunt Erin and to Uncle Robert and Aunt Elaine, who all worked so we could talk to our girl...we love you all so much and are so glad you are there). She was with Ed and Teri's twin 17-year-old daughters, and she is, as you would expect, devastated. Ed and Teri not only were our colleagues on this field, but they were missionaries in residence at our FPO, so we lived with them in the same quad for two months. To my kids, Aunt Teri was as real a member of our family as possible. She loved them before she laid eyes on them. They adored her. Our lives are forever changed.

I spent all of yesterday on the phone. Of course, I talked to my own family, who were ready and willing, as usual, to drop everything to listen to me as I cried. I talked to my beloved Tara, who said all the right things and made me laugh with a story about being a missionary in Brazil. I talked to folks at the school here in Moscow, who were stunned by the news. Friends who are home on Stateside Assignment called to check on us...and to share our grief. By midnight last night, I was pretty much exhausted from talking and grieving.

As I was sitting in bed reading last night and trying to get my brain to stop spinning, John-John came in to give me "lovies." As my tall boy crawled into my lap, it occurred to me that he was really digesting death for the first time. I kissed and hugged him, and he said, "Mommy, I just can't get over Aunt Teri." I told him we would never get over Aunt Teri, but we could be happy for her because she was with Jesus. Then he said, "But we still have Uncle Ed, right?" They were such a team...John-John thought that maybe if Aunt Teri was gone, Uncle Ed was, too. When I assured him that we still had Uncle Ed, he seemed comforted and went to bed. I looked again at a drawing he had done earlier in the day, and it showed Jesus waiting for Teri with a big smile, but people crying over Teri on the ground. That's a pretty good depiction, isn't it? Jesus was waiting for His own, but we who are left behind are filled with grief we simply can't contain.

I have zero words of wisdom. I cannot tell you how this will glorify God. I cannot tell you that, this side of heaven, Teri's death will ever make sense to me. But I can assure you that He will be glorified, and He knows why this was the time for Teri to join Him and leave us. And while that does not stop the crying or the sadness or the grief, it does give me comfort to know that He is still in control. Teri had a facebook page, on which she would give updates about different things. On Sunday, the last full day of her life, Teri's status said, "Teri is smiling, it's Sunday!" She loved Jesus more than anything, and she gave her entire life to Him. I am comforted to know that for Teri, Sunday has come, and she is with the Savior she loved so much. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you do not grieve like the world grieves, and that you have been privileged to know someone like Teri. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I feel like John John. I can't get over Teri's death, and I have never even met her. But I have known her all these months through you, and I have soooo appreciated all she has done for you. She has always been so encouraging and helpful with things since you arrived there. I know "phase 10 night" has been such a fun thing for all of you each week.

We will keep them all in our prayers for the difficult days ahead. But her kids will forever have the things she taught them and the love she showed them daily in their hearts forever.

Love you,

Kay

Tiffany said...

Oh Kellye! I am so sorry! I just got back from a trip to Delhi for language to sign on and see your post.

I didn't kno her or Ed well but I remember them well. Such loving people and so sincere . . . .

I will be praying for you all over there.

Much Love ~ Tiff

Anonymous said...

Wow! what an idea ! What a concept ! Beautiful .. Amazing …