That Night

I wondered if I would ever get around to writing this post.

I wasn't sure if it was necessary. 

But, a lot of time has passed, and I'm realizing that people still want to know what happened the night of the accident.

I told the story in person to most of the folks I felt needed to hear it in person. I've also shared it with people who have asked.

I don't mind people asking. I now understand that not knowing, can be just as hard as knowing. Some people need the closure of hearing the story.

So, for those of you who need the closure, I share the saddest story I will ever tell.

We needed a new couch.

Tiffany's old brown couch from her apartment had been taken over by Jax and it was unfit for guest use. A friend that she worked with was getting rid of her nice couch to get new furniture, so she offered us the couch for free.

We borrowed a truck from some friends in the church, loaded up the old couch to take to Goodwill, and we made our way to Muncie.

We were originally planning on making the trip the previous Friday. But, after a day of work, and a bad weather forecast, we decided to postpone until Sunday.

Upon arriving in Muncie, we dropped the couch off at Goodwill and proceeded to go out for dinner. Eating out in Muncie was always a highlight for Tiffany. Between living in Bryant and working in Gas City, she wasn't afforded the opportunity to sit down to a nice dinner very often.

After dinner, we went to her friend/co-workers house. We loaded up the couch and began our journey home. The weather wasn't "bad", the condensation in the air was so inconsequential that we opted to not cover the couch with the tarp we had purchased.

I was concerned about the possibility of some of the couch cushions flying out of the truck bed. So, we pulled into Hi-Way 3 hardware on the edge of town and she grabbed a couple of them. She placed one between us on the bench seat, and she held one in her lap and she remarked, "This oughta keep me safe."

Driving slowly and steadily, so as to not lose the remaining couch cushions in the truck bed, we made our way to Portland.

Again, the weather hadn't presented any threat. I never lost traction or felt unsafe.

As we made our way North out of Portland, we were having a laugh about some of the low rent motels on that side of town. We wondered, who would ever stay at these places?

Right after that, Tiffany turned to me and said "Wouldn't it suck if this thing (the truck) rolled?"

Before I could jokingly give her a smart assed answer about how the truck wouldn't roll or it's built tough enough to be safe either way...

We hit black ice.

I wasn't even up to the speed limit coming out of Portland. The curve is so slight you'd never take notice of it. I wasn't texting. I wasn't drunk. I wasn't distracted.

We hit black ice. And, I lost the rear end of the truck.

As I tried to regain control, my only thought was to avoid the telephone pole. I thought driving into the field wouldn't be a problem, hitting the pole would be. Either way, I had no control over what happened.

We hit the only spot of the field where there was a slight embankment, and that caused the truck to roll. I'm told that the insurance agent called it a slow roll, which is the worst kind.

We rolled one and a half times and came to rest upside down.

I couldn't see Tiffany because the couch cushion was between us.

She wouldn't respond to me shouting her name.

I hoped she was unconscious. But, she was already gone. 

I hope that you, like me, can find some small, small comfort in knowing that she died instantly and she didn't suffer.

My left clavicle was broken, but I was determined to get to my wife. My phone was gone, so I couldn't call for help. So, I reached into my left pocket with my right hand and retrieved my pocket knife. I used it to cut myself out of the seatbelt. Much to my dismay, I couldn't climb out of the driver side window, the cab was too smashed in.

Someone, who I never saw the face of, showed up relatively soon. I told him I was okay and I begged him to check on my wife. This man was smart enough to dial 911 first. He then went to check on Tiffany, and he said that he couldn't see her. This was not a good sign.

The emergency crew arrived within minutes as I continued to call her name, praying that she would respond.

Zach, the son-in-law of the people whose truck I was driving was one of the first responders. He was the first person that made me feel safe.

It took a while for them to get me out of the truck. They had to secure it so that it wouldn't collapse more as they cut me out. The moment they pulled me out, I tried to crawl back in for my wife. But, the effort was short-lived, there was a lot more of them than there was of me and they held me down to the stretcher and strapped me in. They were doing their job.

I was placed in an ambulance where I was placed in a neck brace and given a shot of morphine. They said they had to take me to Decatur because Portland was full. 

I asked the emergency worker one time. I asked him to shoot me straight about Tiffany. He said it didn't look good. I didn't ask him again. If he knew she was gone, I wasn't going to make him tell me, and I wasn't going to hear it from him.

Decatur wouldn't take me because they were afraid my injuries were too severe. (They weren't) So, they had to take me to Fort Wayne. They asked if I wanted to go to Parkview or Lutheran. I told them I liked the name Lutheran better.

We got to the hospital, they looked me over, and they x-rayed me. A woman came in to get my insurance info and she asked who my emergency contact was, I said, "At this point, I don't know." That's when it really sank in and I began to cry. This woman, who I saw as a vulture preying on me in my time of weakness asking me about insurance and how I plan on paying the bills, looked over her shoulder to see who was around, and then asked if she could pray with me. She didn't have to do that. I'm so thankful she did.

Not long after that, Zach showed up with my friend and mentor pastor, Mark Strietelmeier. Mark took me by the hand and looked me in the eye. I looked him hard in the eye and I said, "You tell me what you know."

He said, "Robert, she's gone." And then he held me as I wept bitterly.

Not long after that, my parents arrived. God love them, they had to drive all the way from Richmond to Fort Wayne in weather that had gotten worse, not knowing what shape they were going to find me in and dealing with the news about Tiffany. We were all devastated.

We lingered in the emergency room long enough to collect ourselves for the drive home. Then we left.

Now you know about that night.

Mother's Day Lamentations

One of the most difficult things about grief is that you never know when it’s going to hit you.

This has been a tough morning.

I didn’t think Mother’s Day would be another painful first, but it is.

Tiffany wasn’t a mother, therein lies the source of my grief.

The fact that we didn’t have any children has been a double edged sword. On the one hand, I couldn’t imagine how much more difficult this would be if I had another human life dependent upon me. But, on the other hand, it would have been another piece of her that would have lived on.

Tiffany should have had the chance to become a mother; she would have been a wonderful mom. She loved kids so much. She loved her days working at the daycare, she loved the kids she worked with as a school psychologist, and most of all, she loved all the kids that her friends and family members were having in recent years.

Her face would just light up anytime there was a baby nearby.

So many of her/our friends are pregnant now, and it brings me such joy and sorrow. It’s not fair that she doesn’t get to be around to share in the joy with them. It’s not fair that she doesn’t get to be here, pregnant alongside them. It’s not fair that I won’t get to go on late night food runs to fulfill whatever obscure craving she’s having that evening.

But, what about any of this has been fair?

However, I do give thanks that this is the first Mother’s Day that she doesn’t have to miss her dear mother, for she is with her.

I will end the lamenting here. I started this post before church, and now that I’ve joined my friends in giving glory to God, I’m feeling better. I leave now to visit my own mother and take her out to lunch. Then, I get to go to Indy to see Brian, Rachel, Miles, and Jax. Oh Jax, the closest thing to a child that Tiffany had. I love seeing him, but I weep like a child for the first few minutes. But, don’t worry, I’m smiling through those tears.

Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers, and baby’s momma’s mommas…

Grace and Peace,

Robert

P.S. Here's one of the last photos I ever took of Tiffany. This was Thanksgiving. She's holding her cousin Kevin's baby and Jax is checking everything out.

Thank You, Indianapolis.

Last August, I had the privilege of being the emcee for an event that churches in my area worked on putting together. The event was called "Faith, Family, and Football". The event was centered around a very special guest, Josh Bleill. Josh is a double amputee veteran of the War in Iraq, he now works for the Indianapolis Colts as a community/motivational/inspirational speaker. 
Here's a photo of Josh and I.

Josh speaks to crowds varying in size from a classroom of first graders to a few thousand people in auditoriums. He delivers a message of hope, perseverance, and working hard to get back on your feet after you've been knocked down. You can check out his book "One Step at a Time" here, I enjoyed reading it.

Some folks from my church had seen him speak before and they were very moved by his story. So, they felt called to put together an event in our neck of the woods featuring Josh as the speaker.

The event was awesome. We had wonderful musical acts, another special guest speaker, and a color guard. I believe there were roughly 1,000 people in attendance. Josh delivered a wonderful speech that night, and we were all very thankful to have heard it.

I really enjoyed meeting Josh and spending time with him.

As you can imagine, in the days and weeks following the accident, I remembered Josh's story as I found myself taking life one step at a time.

To be honest, I'm still taking life one step at a time most days.

Something else also happened in the days and weeks following the accident. A member of my congregation wrote to Josh. She felt that Josh and I had made a good connection and she was compelled to let him know what happened. If anything, so that he could keep us all in his prayers. Josh's secretary wrote back to say that Josh was very sorry to hear the news, that we would be in his prayers, and he wanted my address.

Unrelated to Josh, the event, or my church, a good friend of mine reached out to the Colts. He wanted to let them know that a big fan had suffered a big loss in their life, so he wrote to them.

I'm unaware of when either letter was sent. Nor, did I know they were even written. But on January 23rd, I came home to a package from Colts Headquarters, and this letter was included.

Needless to say, I was floored.

I had my suspicions about how this very special letter came to be, so I called the member of my congregation to ask if she knew anything about it. She then told me her story.

After texting the image to my friends, my friend let me know that he had written the Colts as well.

Y'all sure know how to make a guy feel loved.

But, let's talk about that letter.

Wow, just wow.

I don't know who wrote the letter, as you can see it's not signed by any individual. I don't know if Josh wrote it, if a chaplain wrote it, or Hell, maybe Jim Irsay wrote it.

I don't know who wrote it, but I'm so thankful for their thoughtful words.

Let's be honest, this not a form letter. This was not an "auto-reply". Someone took their time. This came from the heart.

I still choke up more often than not when I read the letter. 

I'd like to highlight two lines in particular.

1- "We pray you will continue to have the strength to focus on the vision you and Tiffany had for your lives together."

I think about this a lot. On my hardest days, I try to remember the vision that we had for life. That vision included my completion of seminary and continuing to serve my two congregations. That vision is still alive, that vision I can continue. I celebrate that vision.

But, there's also a vision I can't continue. The vision of our lives together, the vision of having children, the vision of growing old together. I grieve the loss of that vision.

However, a colleague pointed out that perhaps I could honor that vision by one day remarrying and having children. (No time soon, of course.) It would not be the vision of Tiffany and I, but it would honor the vision we had together. If Tiffany loved me and believed in me enough to share life and children with me, then perhaps I can honor that vision by becoming the husband and father she knew I could be. It's a heavy, daunting thought and I'm still navigating it. Difficult as it may be, I'm glad he brought it to my attention.

2- "We hope that the qualities you admire most in Tiffany will live on in you and the world will be better for it."

After reading this, I feel like I need to recite the words from the Affirmation of Baptism, "I will, and I ask God to help and guide me."

Oh, that I could live out the qualities of my better half.

On the one hand, so much of me was her and so much of her was me. We fit together like a hand in a glove.

But, on the other hand. She was the most empathetic, caring, and genuinely loving person that I've ever known. And, even on my best days, I could never come close to filling her shoes.

But, God help me, I will try to do the best I can. She made the world a better place, she carried the love of God everywhere she went.

I could never begin to fill all the voids caused by her absence. I can only try to be a reflection of her love, which itself was a reflection of God's love.

The letter, and the thought and care that went into it's manifestation mean so much to me. I had the letter framed and I've placed it where I can see it everyday.

I don't read it everyday, but I know it's always there. It's always working to motivate and encourage me.

And for that, I could not be more grateful.

Thank you, Carol and Brian.
Thank you, Josh Bleill.
Thank you, Indianapolis Colts.

Grace, mercy, and peace to you all,
Robert

A little story that coincides with the big story.

This is not a cop out post, but it is a republication. 

Honestly, I had no time to write today. Not only did I not have time to write, there was no pressing issue that needed to be written about.

But, isn't that kind of the point? Shouldn't I be glad for a day that I don't feel the need to write the blog?

This blog exists for the purpose of releasing some of the thoughts rattling around in my head. And, don't get me wrong, there are still lots of things to write about. But, that day was not today.

I just came off of a fantastic weekend spent with friends, family, and a church community that welcomed me as a guest.

But, I wanted to share some writing I did back in February. It was part of my church's newsletter, and I shared it on Facebook. It's an important message to share. So, I figured today would be a good day to share it...

February 2014

Dear Friends,

Grace and Peace to you in the name of our risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

On Wednesday, January 15^th, one of my former students sent me a text message to ask if I had any lunch plans for the following day because he’d like to come up from Indy and take me out to lunch. I didn’t have any plans, so I told him I would love to meet him for lunch. What he didn’t know at the time was that the following day was Tiffany’s Birthday, another one of those painful firsts that I was preparing to face. So, naturally, I was trying to find ways to fill my day in Muncie by surrounding myself with those who care about and support me.

Thursday came, and so did another blanketing of snow. My student sent me a text to let me know he was leaving home and that he may be a little delayed by the snow. I told him to drive safely and not take any chances. About ten minutes later, he called to let me know that he had pulled off of the interstate and he was going to make his way back home. The snow had made the roads too dangerous for his car to traverse. Of course, I completely understood. At that point, he shared with me that something had moved him to text me the night before. He didn’t know that Thursday was Tiffany’s birthday. He said he was sitting with his wife and brother Wednesday night and something urged him to text me, something told him that I could use some company for lunch the next day.

Friends, those of us who follow the Triune God would call this the Holy Spirit. I believe it was the Holy Spirit who moved through my student and encouraged him to reach out to me on this particular day. Because, Lord knows, I needed some company. (Don’t worry, I found another friend to join me for lunch.)

But, we may ask, what of the snow? What of the weather? If the Holy Spirit moved my student to keep company with me on a day that I needed it, why would a snow storm dash our plans? Why would God allow a snowstorm to prevent us from getting together?

To that, I say, thank God for the gift of the Holy Spirit and the knowledge that it still moves. But, the reality is, that snow and rain still fall. Ice forms on roads and hurricanes make landfall along coasts. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus says that the sun shines on the evil and on the good, and it rains on the righteous and the unrighteous. It is not that God causes these things to happen; it is just the natural world we live in.

God’s Holy Spirit supports and guides us, but the world presents obstacles and disasters that will stand in our way. This does not mean God has abandoned us or caused these things to happen, it’s just the reality of the natural world around us; a world that joins us in longing for restoration, a world that waits with us for the day that all things will be made new.

Blessings,

Vicar Robert

Do not be afraid.

I'm starting to get concerned that if I keep quoting C.S. Lewis on here I'm going to have to give a nickel to his publishers for each hit the blog gets.

Do me a favor, don't rat me out.

But yes, grief does feel like fear in some respects. Uneasiness, unsettled-ness, uncertainty, never knowing what happens next, the inability to relax...the list could go on.

Not only does grief feel like fear. There is, in fact, a lot of fear in the grieving process.

The fear that your loved one didn't know how much you loved them.

The fear that you could have loved them more.

The fear that you have somehow failed them.

The fear that you have to continue life without them.

The fear that you will never see them again.

The fear that the resurrection or the afterlife may not look like what you had planned.

The fear that there could be no resurrection or afterlife. 

(C'mon folks, don't be so surprised. If you've never considered the possibility that your belief system is merely a belief system, you haven't properly challenged your belief system. But, believe me, even when you've assessed that your house is built upon the rock, the storms can still get pretty nasty.)

Yes, my friends, there is a lot of fear associated with grief.

It is because of this fear that I find so much consolation in the resurrection story in Matthew's Gospel account.

Two of the Marys, there were lots of Marys, were going down to the tomb on the morning of the resurrection. It doesn't say why they were going. Were they going to grieve? Or, were they going to investigate?

On the way there, there was a large and sudden earthquake. An angel of the Lord appeared, the angel opened the tomb and sat on it. Weird, I know, I can explain the significance another time. The Roman guards at the tomb freaked out and passed out.

It's a pretty intense scene. So, it should come as no surprise that the first words out of the angel's mouth were "Do not be afraid."

These women are stricken with grief, either looking for Jesus or coming to weep at His tomb, they just felt an earthquake, they just saw an angel, and they just saw Roman soldiers (tough dudes) pass out from fear.

And...the angel's first words are "Do not be afraid."

Easier said than done.

He goes on to say that Jesus is risen, and he'll meet them in Galilee.

The women left quickly with fear and great joy.

Fear AND Great Joy, kinda like when you're about to get on a roller-coaster.

They don't get far until they are suddenly met by the risen Christ. He greets them, they fall at His feet. His first words to them..."Do not be afraid."

I think we're onto something here.

First of all, let's recognize that these women were pretty brave. They had the guts to go to the tomb on the day that the resurrection was supposed to occur, a tomb being guarded by the Romans.

Where was the rest of the gang? Hiding. 

Why? Because they were afraid.

Why were they afraid?

They just saw their leader get beaten to a pulp and nailed to a cross.

Their guy lost.

The Jewish authorities and the Romans were not big fans of these Jesus followers.

They weren't sure that this whole resurrection thing was going to work out. (Neither was Jesus, for that matter. Remember the garden at Gethsemane? Remember His last words from the cross?)

The disciples were afraid. The women were afraid. And, what are Jesus' first words? "Do not be afraid."

This is the same Jesus who suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried.

The same Jesus who descended to the dead. And, who has now on the third day rose again.

And, what does this guy have to say? "Do not be afraid."

I know it's easier said than done, but I like where Jesus is going with this.

Then, that got me thinking. Where else does Jesus tell us not to be afraid?

Before His crucifixion and death, Jesus nails it on the head.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.” -John 14:1-4

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid." -John 14:27

Jesus knew the disciples would be afraid. Jesus knows that we have fears. Perhaps that's why he took some pretty opportune moments to remind people to not be afraid.

In the midst of my grief this week, these texts have given me peace. Pre-Crucifixion Jesus and Post-Resurrection Jesus both remind us to not be afraid.

Again, I know it's easier said than done. But, I've been giving it my best shot.

I believe in the resurrection.

I believe that the pain of grief, and the fear it brings, will never defeat the hope of resurrection.

Easter blessings to you all.

Grace and Peace,

Robert

*Bonus*

Here's a decent choral arrangement for the hymn, "You Are Mine".

Do not be afraid I am with you

I have called you each by name

Come and Follow Me

I will bring you Home

I love you and you are Mine

God won't give you more than you can handle?

You have heard people say, "God won't give you more than you can handle." It has probably been said to you when you were facing a particularly tough time in your life. Don't be upset when people say it, they're only trying to be helpful. 

Some people like to get a laugh out of it by adding, "I know that God won't give me more than I can handle, I just wish He didn't trust me so much."

Yet, the expression is still a little off. 

I've seen images like this a few times, it's a little closer to being accurate.

I've read several good articles and blog posts on this very subject. So, I want to voice my perspective on this platitude and try not to be too repetitive about what others have already said better than me.

First off, let's explore its origin. Many people will qualify this statement by opening with "You know, the Bible says..." or by saying "Well, it's in the Bible..."

I've learned over the years, that when people say things like this, you should probably check the Bible to see if it's actually there. Then, if it actually is there, you should check the context in which it was written.

It may come as a surprise to you when I tell you that this statement is not in the Bible. At least, not the way it is commonly said or applied. It is taken from a verse in 1 Corinthians that has gone through a bad game of "telephone".

1 Corinthians 10:13

"No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it."

This verse appears in the middle of a passage that is discussing idolatry and the temptation to engage in acts that lead to idolatry. (You can check it out for yourself, since I just told you to verify when someone tells you what's in the Bible.)

It's quite a bit different from "God won't give you more than you can handle.", isn't it? Perhaps it's not far off if someone says it to you when you're facing temptation. But, it doesn't really apply to most of the situations in which you hear it.

I've heard this said to people fighting cancer.

I've heard this said to people who have been the victims of abuse.

It's always said to people who are grieving.

I'm here to tell you friends, in these scenarios and many more, you will face more than you can handle.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Before we get to what you can or can't handle. Let's go back to that first line. "God won't give you..." There is a fundamental problem with the opening of this platitude. You are implying that God has given this affliction to people. You are implying that God gave them cancer...for a reason. (If you've read my earlier blog posts, you already know my disdain for "everything happens for a reason") Furthermore, you are implying that God gives us the horrible situations in our lives. As if God finds pleasure in "giving" us trials and tribulations. You are implying that people who have been abused were abused for some greater purpose. You are implying that God is a jerk.

It is important to understand that God does not "give us" the terrible things that happen in our lives. We live in a natural world, we have free will, others do too. Terrible and unspeakable things can happen to us in this otherwise beautiful world. Unfortunately, shit happens. Oftentimes, there is no "answer" for it.

But, as I've said before. You don't have to agree with me on these theological stances. If it makes you feel better to believe that God is giving you all the crap in your life, please feel free to carry on believing as such.

But, let me tell you about the God I believe in. I believe in the God who gave sight to the blind, not the one who struck them with blindness.* I believe in the God who allowed the crippled to walk, not the one who made them lame for a reason. I believe in the God who raised people to new life, not the God who struck them dead for a greater purpose. I believe in the God who shows up in our weakness, not the God who causes it.

Things will happen to you in this world that will be impossible for you to handle alone. I believe in the God who shows up to help you handle it. I believe in the God who fills you with the Holy Spirit. I believe in the God who fills others with the Holy Spirit and inspires them to surround you with love and support.

If you are going through hard times right now, please know that God is not heaping calamity upon you. Trust in the God who gets us through hard times, not in a god who causes them.

Grace and Peace,

Robert 

*Some of you may point to the story of the blind man in John 9 as an example of how God gave blindness to the man so that God's work could be done. Kudos to you if you remembered that. Unfortunately, the NRSV and NIV translate the story to sound like God gave this man his blindness as though it was all leading up to the day that Jesus would cure him. However, a closer examination of the original Greek and other translations KJV, LB, Message, reveal that the punctuation and translation make a big difference. Instead, it is revealed to be a story of the importance of doing God's work, not asking who is to blame.

Dreams, Visions, Tattoos, etc.

(Caution: We're going to explore some far out places today. I'm venturing into the world of dreams and visions. I've shared these stories with very few people up until this point. The stories have helped some and brought them peace. However, the stories have been difficult for some people to hear, whether they found comfort in them or not. Read ahead at your own risk and have your tissues ready.

P.S. Some of you may think I'm crazy after you read this. I don't blame you.)

It's not often that someone talks about being visited by their deceased loved ones while they are sleeping. I believe these stories aren't shared for two reasons. Number one, you believe you're crazy. Number two, others will believe you are crazy.

Honestly, it's all pretty crazy.

However, dreams have been powerful and influential since the beginning of time. Dreams and visions are discussed in every major religion and they've been used throughout history in myth and folklore. People have tried to interpret them and psychoanalyze them. People have followed these dreams and visions to achieve great things, but people have also cited dreams as reasons for carrying out heinous acts...

Dear friends, I must admit, I've always been a skeptic when it comes to dreams. I've always believed that they were merely our subconscious playing out while we sleep. If you told me about an important dream you had that changed the course of your life, I probably thought you were crazy. (I do apologize for that.)

Furthermore, I must also admit that while I am hopelessly devoted to the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth and constantly trying to live into them for the sake of God and neighbor, I am pretty bad at believing in the mystical side of my faith. I believe in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. I believe in a man who died and rose again three days later. I believe that Christ is truly present in the sacraments. And, I believe that the Holy Spirit moves and works through all of us. However, I'm trying to follow a pre-modern, Middle Eastern Rabbi in a post-enlightenment, post-modern, Western civilization. Some things are still hard to believe, even when you do take them on faith. Some of these things are even harder to believe in when they don't directly apply to the teachings of Jesus or our ability to live out those teachings.

So, what then, is a man to do with dreams? I had never given much thought to it. Jesus never discusses dreams in the Gospel accounts. However, dreams are mentioned by the author of Matthew's Gospel. An Angel of the Lord appears to Joseph and instructs him in a few dreams. And, interestingly enough, Pilate discusses a dream that his wife had had about Jesus. Outside of this, dreams and visions do play a significant role throughout the entire Bible. (Peter, Paul, Joseph in Egypt, many prophets, and that often misinterpreted yet beautifully written Apocalyptic letter at the end of the New Testament...just to name a few.)

But, again, let's remember my skepticism about dreams and other mystical things. Upon reading C.S. Lewis' "A Grief Observed", I discovered that he too had a dream/vision/visit from his deceased wife. His sentiments going into the experience were much the same as mine, "I said, several notebooks ago, that even if I got what seemed like an assurance of my wife's presence, I wouldn't believe it. Easier said than done. Even now, though, I won’t treat anything of that sort as evidence. It’s the quality of last night’s experience—not what it proves but what it was—that makes it worth putting down."

So, all of that being said, let's proceed to the dreams/visions. (I'm sure you were all wondering when I would get to the point.)

One last question, is there a difference between dreams and visions? Are dreams our subconscious playing out, while visions are given to us by God? Are they interchangeable? Are they one in the same? I'll let you decide that for yourself.

The first two dreams were not mine. I recount them here with permission.

Tiffany's good friend Emily texted me on December 22nd, 2 weeks after the accident, to tell me about her dream. This is the conversation:

I was really shook up when I received this text. Granted, it was only two weeks after the accident. But, I didn't know what to think about it. Was this a real thing? Was Emily visited by Tiffany? Or, did God give Emily this vision? Or, was this Emily's subconscious merely giving her some of the closure she needed?

I'm sure you can imagine where I landed after I had a few days to think about it. I was sure that this was Emily's subconscious giving her what she needed. Surely, we are not visited by our deceased loved ones in our dreams. Surely, God does not grant these visions to us common folk...

But, then it happened again. Tiffany's friend Julie sent me a text message on January 4th recounting a dream/vision that she had had. Here is that conversation.

*Cue the Twilight Zone Music*

Okay, now things were getting weird.

Two friends, with two different dreams.

The message that she's okay being portrayed in both dreams.

And, what about how Tiffany would not allow Julie to hug her or touch her, it bares an odd resemblance to Jesus appearing to Mary Magdalene after the resurrection in John's Gospel when He told her to not "hold onto" Him because He had not yet ascended to the father.

And, let's face it, if I were looking for "proof", would I have to look any further than the fact that she asked Julie to get me a beer. C'mon folks...

I was paying attention now. I didn't know what it all meant. I didn't think it was a "smoking gun" to prove the afterlife or the intercessory actions of our loved ones. But, I was starting to find comfort instead of confusion from this whole dream business.

Then, I had my dream. And, I can't even call it a dream. It was a vision, it was a visit, it was something more than my "subconscious" playing out. I believe this because Tiffany has been in my simple dreams, in those dreams she's a character playing a role. In the simple dreams we have rehearsed lines and our interactions are nothing more than our typical day to day business. This vision or visit was so much more. I defer to C.S. Lewis again, "If this was a throw-up from my unconscious, then my unconscious must be a far more interesting region than the depth psychologists have led me to expect. For one thing, it is apparently much less primitive than my consciousness."

On the morning of January 14th, between 5:30-7 a.m., this event took place while I slept:

I was inside my church, Redeemer Lutheran, standing in the little area between my office and the rear exit of the sanctuary. This is where I stood to receive people after Tiffany's memorial service. The same sort of scene was playing out. People were lined up coming out of the sanctuary, but I don't remember any of their faces. In the middle of receiving these people, I looked up, and Tiffany was standing in the line. She was in the doorway between the sanctuary and the little area in which we were all standing. Of course, I went straight to her. I asked her what she was doing here. She put up her hands and looked around, as if to draw my attention to know that we were standing in the church, and she says, "Where else would I be?" We held each other, then she looked me in the eye, and she said "Love me forever." I told her, "You know I will." I began to cry, then she gave me a kiss. She turned to walk back into the sanctuary, but I stopped her and I said, "I'll be with you soo..."(I started to say soon, but I stopped myself because I didn't want her to think that I was going to take my own life or do something reckless) As I stood there searching for the words to say, she gave me a loving look and a nod as if she knew what I meant to say. Then, she turned and went into the sanctuary. I went in to follow her, but she was gone.

I woke up and wept like a child.

I never had a vision/visit before this one. I haven't had one since.

A few things I've noted about the vision/visit:

-I find great significance in Tiffany pointing out that we were in the church. If what we believe is true, where else would she be? And, my friend Claire pointed out, it was strikingly similar to the young Jesus' response to when he was found in the temple by His upset parents in Luke's Gospel "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?
-Early on, I wrestled with her message of "Love me Forever". I worried that she thought there was a chance I wouldn't. I've come to believe that it was her way of saying "you will need to carry on with your life, just always keep me with you".
-The kiss. The kiss was something I needed. It was our last kiss. I could not bring myself to kiss her lifeless body in the casket, I didn't want it to be my last memory of kissing her. The kiss in the dream was as sweet as every kiss we'd shared in our lives together.

Do you think I'm crazy yet?

I love that the dreams/visions came to three people who always maintained a healthy dose of skepticism about dreams/visions.

Perhaps it's the very reason they did come to us.

I'm not saying this proves anything. Nor am I saying it was everything I'd hoped and dreamed for.

I am saying it was something. It was too real to ignore. I approach the mystical side of the faith with a little more awe and wonder.

Perhaps this doesn't sound so crazy to you because you've had your own dreams/visions/visits with loved ones. You'd be surprised at the stories that I've heard from people after I've shared this with them. It's as though others aren't afraid to share their experiences once they've heard yours. Maybe they feel less crazy, maybe they realize we're both crazy.

So, now you know the source for the text on the tattoo I got to honor Tiffany. The reason for the violin and the purple are both pretty obvious.

Not knowing what else to say, I leave you with the wit and wisdom of Forrest Gump, "That's all I've got to say about that."

Grace and Peace,
Robert

P.S. After the dream, the word "Forever" stood out in my mind, and it reminded me of the song "Forever" by the Dropkick Murphys. It speaks to the situation very well. Here's a beautiful acoustic version of the song.