Even Though...

Well, it has been far too long since I have "blogged." It has been a whirlwind of activity in the Wobrak Family. For the past few weeks we've been immersed in wedding plans. We have a new family member whom we love dearly - our daughter-in-law Meghan. She and our son Craig married on September 1, 2007. What a beautiful day, filled with joy and music and good food and blessings all around. However - I must share that the joy of that day was preceded by a deep sorrow with the death of Meghan's father 4 days before the wedding. His service of death and resurrection was held Friday morning...18 hours before their wedding.

Michael has been ill for 22 years, having been diagnosed with an inoperable malignant brain tumor when Meghan was 3 weeks old. His health has progressively declined over the past 22 years. Michael was a tremendously gifted poet, author, director of plays, English teacher (beloved by all of his students)and greatly loved by his family. In our son's words, "Michael was a good man." As his pastor said at his funeral, "How incredibly frustrating it must have been for Michael to have such a torrent of creativity and ability funneled into a smaller and smaller opening."

As we stayed in touch with Craig in the 2 weeks before Michael's death, mostly via text messages on our cell phones and some phone calls, my heart was aching for this young man who will in part always be "my baby boy." Each brief text message keeping us apprised of Michael's ever-loosening grip on life made me want to run to Greensburg and gather up Craig in my arms and comfort him. As I watched him at the funeral, sitting where he belonged, next to his wife-to-be in the front row, my heart was breaking.

My heart was breaking for Meghan's mother, a woman who has for all but the first 4 years of their marriage, watched the steady decline of her husband, caring for him with unbelievable patience and strength. My heart was breaking for Meghan, a lovely young woman who had only known her father when he was ill. Now, for one of the most important and life-changing days of her life, he would not be with her in the traditional way to walk his little girl down the aisle. And my heart was breaking for my son, grown to be a man, sitting in the front row of a funeral for his future-father-in-law on the day before his wedding. It took every bit of my strength to not run up front and take his hand, hold it like I used to do to make sure he would safely cross the street. But I couldn't...I couldn't protect him from this. He had to walk through this shadowed valley without "his mommy" holding his hand.

One of my colleagues officiated at the funeral. John was my District Superintendent in my first full-time appointment out of seminary. John always spoke words of wisdom to me and helped me grow in tremendous ways under his leadership. I was comforted knowing that he not only knew the O'Halloran family but also our family. As he spoke beautiful words of God's grace, the peace in my heart grew. But the most evident moment of God's grace was when John spoke these words. "Let's not forget there's a wedding tomorrow. Whenever I visited Michael's room, your (Craig's & Meghan's) pictures were in his room. He glowed when he spoke about you. Meghan, he always mourned the fact that he could not be the father to you he wanted to be and that he felt you deserved. I used to say that people would hang on to make it through an event like tomorrow. I need to revise that. I believe Michael let go, handing you off to Craig, knowing you were in good hands. His gift to you all is that he is released from his suffering. You are doing the right thing going through with this wedding. He would be the last person to hold you back one more time. You're doing the right thing." He then looked at Craig and said, "So, Craig, the pressure's on, buddy." Everyone laughed and Craig answered, "I know it is!" And my broken heart began to mend.

We left that worship service (yes, we worshiped God in that service), celebrating the life of Michael O'Halloran, and by God's grace were filled with peace, released from our sorrow to enter into the next day with rejoicing. Remember what the psalmist prays - "Yea, even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." (Psalm 23:4, KJV) Even though...words of grace...words of faith...even though.

That's what faith in God means -- even though. Even though...You are with me. Even though...You give me comfort. Even though...You remove the fear. Even though...You guide me through the darkness to the light of your eternal grace. Even though.

A member of Christ Church loaned me a book today, knowing I am teaching a class on the Psalms. The book is "Psalms/Now" by Leslie F. Brandt. Listen to how the author paraphrases Psalm 23:
The Lord is my constant companion. There is no need that he cannot fulfill.
Whether his course for me points to the mountaintops of glorious ecstasy or to the valleys of human suffering,he is by my side, he is ever present with me. He is close beside me when I tread the dark streets of danger, and even when I flirt with death itself, he will not leave me. When the pain is severe, he is near to comfort.
When the burden is heavy, he is there to lean upon. When depression darkens my soul, he touches me with eternal joy. When I feel empty and alone, he fills the aching vacuum with his power. My security is God's promise to be near me always,
and in the knowledge that God will never let me go.

Amen and Amen!

By God's Grace,
Michelle