There are some things in life you’re never prepared for. No amount of study or conversation or therapy or prayer will suffice. I began one of those journeys 23 years ago.
My brother died March 9, 2001. Shortly after that, I received a call from Karen Spaeth. She heard that I sang at Michael’s funeral and was asking me to help her with an idea. She was holding a nightly community prayer service for a little girl who was terminally ill.
Prior to that, I met Angie Workman in 1995. She had gone to school with my middle sister, Melissa. I had started a daycare in order to stay home with Grant. Her oldest son, Ryan, was the same age and they became instant buddies and partners in crime.
Chantel and I are cousins (actually our dads are cousins). We didn’t grow up together and that side of the family is fairly messy (I’m not sure what other word fits). But we were meant to have each other in life.
These three women have something in common. They’ve all buried children. Karen lost Holli at the age of 17 on Father’s Day in 2002. Angie lost Alex at the age of eight on Super Bowl Sunday in 2009. Chantel lost Dillon, age 22, in a motorcycle accident that happened on her birthday in 2021.
When reflecting back on each of those tragic times, many of the details are lost in my memory. There are, however, certain things that are forever tattooed in my mind. Walking into the unit that Holli had been airlifted to was heavy. Going out to Angie’s house where the accident took place; not knowing what I was going to find. Realizing that Dillon was the same age as my brother. All of those things hit me differently. They stopped me momentarily in my tracks. But the single biggest gut-punch? The look on their face when I first walked in and the embrace that followed.
Devastation. Disbelief. Confusion. Incomprehensible sorrow. I’d never seen anything like it. And even though I say it was the same, it was still shocking each time. I could actually FEEL the pain and anguish in their bodies. It seemed as if the life (and light) had actually been taken from their eyes. The empty void was unable to be quantified.
In each of their lives, I watched as they drifted through those days, weeks, and then months. At times there was intentionality. Other times, they seemed to only have the ability to be a passive observer. There were tremendous times of seeing God’s sovereign hand doing what only He could do. They would rejoice and find those opportunities to be grateful. But there were also times of utter loss that seemed to peel away their heart and reopen the wound all over again.
Less than six months ago, another friend came into my life. Alyssa and I both found ourselves in a Bible study with a mutual friend. My heart was drawn to her for countless reasons. (Sharing a nerdy love for all things “Bible” being near the top of the list.)
On April 25th, Alyssa took her youngest child, Whitlee, to Peyton Manning Children’s Hospital with an enlarged heart. And on Saturday, May 11th, Whitlee ran from the arms of her earthly daddy into the arms of Jesus. Whitlee Faith Fuller was three years old.
There are just some things in life you’re never prepared for. These women are some of the strongest warriors I’ve ever had the honor of knowing. And yet they’re so broken. God has allowed situations in this fallen life to take them to a sort of hell on earth. While I certainly will never understand the ways of God this side of eternity, I don’t ever doubt Him. I’ve seen too much. With my own eyes I’ve seen miracles. They may not be the miracles we asked for. But God, who knows the beginning and the end, writes stories that we can’t begin to fathom.
I have so much more to tell you about these courageous women. How they inspire me. How they motivate me. Each one will have a blog (or two) to unfold their story. I know you’re going to be drawn by them; by the God who holds them. With each one, like me, you’ll find a God who is TRUSTWORTHY and FAITHFUL.
I Peter 3:14-15 ~ But even if you should suffer for righteousness sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for the reason for the hope that is in you.