Archive for year 2012
Close Friendship and Cyberloss
As more of our friendships become virtual via online communities, what happens when those virtual friends die in real life?
Today, I’m excited to host the creator of Navigating Cyberloss, a truly innovative and genuinely supportive website for an exponentially growing segment of people dealing with grief from the death of online friends. Casey is years ahead in recognizing the changing landscape of both grief and funeralization.
Here’s the story that prompted the creation of Navigating Cyberloss.
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There must be thousands of ways for a friendship to begin. My most cherished friendship began in one of the strangest. If somebody had asked me beforehand, I wouldn’t have thought it possible that two people could form such a strong bond based on five words…well, maybe if those five words weren’t “Banana and toffee, I think.”
Those were the first five words I wrote to Chris Thomas in February 2006. She was a devoted fan of George Harrison, as I am, and it was through the official George Harrison fan forum that we met. That day in February 2006 happened to be the twenty-fifth, which would have been George Harrison’s 63rd birthday. We fans were taking part in a virtual celebration for him, during which a moderator had offered some ‘banoffee pie’.
Chris wasn’t sure what banoffee was, and I wasn’t 100% certain, but I offered my best guess, and she appreciated it. We stayed in contact for a while through her forum thread, and then began to exchange emails and instant messages on a regular basis, communicating almost every night. Even though she lived in Argentina, she became one of my dearest friends.
Through reading Chris’ posts on the forum, I became aware of her battle with cancer. Although it was one of the most difficult experiences I had ever faced I remained supportive, offering what little assistance I could through our conversations and helping her get back into playing guitar, a skill that she passed on to her son.
At times when Chris’ health prevented her from updating the community on her condition, other users would keep in touch and pass any news on to us. There was an air of loving support which was present in all contact that the forum members had with Chris, and we all hoped against hope that somehow she’d beat it.
One instance raised all our hopes, in November 2006, when Chris posted on the board to say that she was in remission. Unfortunately, it didn’t last, and in January 2007, Chris and I had what would be our last conversation. She reported that she had moved across the country to receive stronger treatment, and spoke of surgery the following month. Although she expressed hope that she’d be with us all again ‘maybe next year’, I somehow knew that wouldn’t be the case. The penultimate words she wrote to me have stayed with me to this day: ‘I leave now.’ I somehow knew that phrase meant more than she was letting on…
The third of April brought confirmation of what the board community had dreaded, when one of our members wrote that he had heard from her brother that Chris only had a few days left.
Personally, I think knowing that bad news is coming sometimes makes it harder to bear.. That first night of knowing was spent wishing for sleep and praying that if it had to be that way, it would be painless. The next morning, I participated in a communal playing of ‘My Sweet Lord’ – Chris’ favourite George song, to show her, in spirit at least, that we were thinking of her as she made her way Home.
Easter Sunday, April 8 2007, was also the day that Chris passed away. Due to time differences, I didn’t hear until the ninth, the day I woke up and knew without a doubt what had happened. It was just before 7.15am when I logged onto the board, and read the news.
I was far from prepared but somehow knew what I had to do. I played George Harrison’s song ‘All Things Must Pass’ and thought lovingly of the person I’d had the privilege of knowing for an all too short period of time.
I grieved deeply for two years afterwards, and grieve to this day. Somewhere in the midst of my discomfort, I searched for assistance in dealing with the loss of online friends, and found nothing which discussed what I was trying to comprehend.
In November 2010, I started the blog Navigating Cyberloss to fill that gap, reasoning that I couldn’t possibly be the only person who had experienced meaningful online friendship, and devastating online loss. The blog is intended to provide community and support for people who have endured similar losses, offering them a place to share and remember with others who have suffered in this way. It is my hope that cyberloss will become a recognised issue which can be legitimately discussed alongside other types of loss, ensuring that those affected do not experience the same isolation I felt at first.
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Follow Casey on twitter and send your love via a “like” on facebook.
Painful Faith
Bio: Robert Martin spends his days as a computer software tester for a company in the suburbs of Philadelphia, PA. When he is not commuting back and forth, he spends time with his wife and kids and as the Christian Education Chairman for Bally Mennonite Church. As of right now, he is finishing a Master’s of Arts in Missional Ministry from Biblical Seminary. From there, when asked what he’s going to do with the degree, his standard answer is, “God hasn’t shown me that far yet.”
Mother’s Day, 2007, my world was turned upside down when my mother fell ill. Three months later, it wasn’t just turned upside down, it was shaken, rattled, and destroyed to utter rubble when her diagnosis turned terminal.
As we as a family grieved, there is one phrase that I’m so glad no one decided they needed to tell us.
“It’s all in God’s plan.”
That is not a statement that someone going through this kind of situation needs to hear, nor is it helpful, as true as it might be.
But we can’t say that for sure. We are not necessarily privy to all of God’s plans. For that matter, can we say that it is God’s plan for someone to experience the pain and grief of such a loss? To say so is too simplistic, I think.
I think the evil, pain, and loss that comes from living in this broken world is never part of God’s ultimate plan (if so, why would the final new Creation be a place of no tears?). The world is broken, so broken things happen. What IS in God’s plan is redemption, taking broken things and using them to bring about good, like the hope of a new life, or the ability to speak love, hope, and compassion into the lives of people who have experienced a similar kind of loss.
The good that happens after, that is certainly God’s plan, but the event that caused the pain? Not sure…
Now, Christ’s death…yes, God planned that. But in his ultimate plan, did he ever want to have to do that? From the beginning, his intention was for us to live in communion with him.
Christ’s sacrifice was a broken thing that had to happen as part of a broken world and the choices of broken people, but God used that brokenness for a wonderful thing to give us hope that such brokenness is only temporary. That’s the beauty of Easter. That the pain is only for a time as there is something more to come that will blow our socks off…
For me, my mother’s death was one that struck me to the core. We prayed…and prayed…and prayed FERVENTLY that she would be healed. In the midst of the ICU we prayed. On the road back and forth from Hershey and Chambersburg I prayed. Every night during that horrible 3 months I prayed, “God, heal my mother. I know you can. Don’t take her from me.”
And she died anyways.
Over a gall stone.
How absolutely stupid, non-sensical… Seriously?!?! A GALL STONE KILLED MY MOM!
God, how could you?
Was the sad thing that happened to me part of God’s plan? Or was it simply a matter of the fact that we live in a world that is cracked, broken, damaged by centuries of sin and that her death was just one in a whole litany of lives taken that should never have been lost?
God’s plan… we like to say that nice little “pat” answer “Oh, it’s all in God’s plan.”
What a load of crap.
The broken world around us was never part of God’s plan.
But God is bigger, stronger, better, and wiser than that. He takes even something as stupid and horrible as my mother’s slow fade into morphine-steeped oblivion and turned it around into a passion and a fire in my soul as I saw her life reflected in the lives of others and realized how significant one life lived passionately for God could be.
Her death was never part of God’s big plan. But my life is.
And this is what we must remember: what is important is not figuring out why the sad thing had to happen, but what is our reaction to it. Are we going to continue living in that brokenness? Or are we going to live a redeemed life?
For me, as Joshua said, and my house…we’ll serve God, even in the midst of brokenness.
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Robert blogs at Abnormal Anabaptist. You can follow him on twitter @tristaanogre.
Last Wishes of a Funeral Director’s Wife: Guest Post from Katy Prange
Several years ago, while Katy Prange was struggling to balance kids and a job with a husband who has no back seats in his vehicle 50% of the time, she discovered very few ways to connect with others who understand the unique life experiences of someone who shares Life With A Funeral Director.
As a result, she founded Life With A Funeral Director.com to create an online community and resource for others who share life with funeral industry professionals.
Katy has been married to a funeral director for almost 10 years and is mom to two little girls.
She is a Legislative Aide for her day job, writes a weekly blog at lifewithafuneraldirector.com and hosts a Life With A Funeral Director Facebook group. Katy’s vision is to offer others who share life with a funeral director some ideas, thoughts and resources to strengthen and maintain our relationships under extremely unique and challenging circumstances.
She is seeking to find a way to connect with future-spouses of funeral directors to help them think through some of the “stuff” that challenges us on a daily basis, before they have to react to it. By offering a little humor and perspective, Katy hopes to create a sanctuary for others who seek understanding, even if it’s after the third night that the pager has gone off at 3 a.m. In addition, Katy hates lilies.
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I attended a funeral this week that touched me unlike any other.
For anyone who knows me, you know that we’ve attended a record number in the past year, so I have some relatively recent experience to draw upon.
This funeral was for my sister-in-laws father, whom I knew, but not well. But I always enjoyed his company. I felt really lucky to have been able to spend Christmas Eve with her family at our church’s kid-service. Little did I know it would be the last time I would see his smile.
The funeral was very touching because it was a sincere celebration of a life that many people would probably call unremarkable. There weren’t lists of awards or accollades. There weren’t trophies and “things” that commemorated his life. His obituary didn’t look like a re-tooled resume.
But the room was full and the tears were plenty as a life of true love and an unwavering dedication to family was recalled through laughter and sadness. There was not a single mention of regret. It didn’t exist. But the stories, the “dad always saids…”, the strength that he held throughout his final battle and the little things of his everyday life, filled the space with a celebration.
As we often do, I started to contemplate my own demise and realized that there are some little things I need to start doing in my life now – to have the kind of life I want to be remembered when it is my turn. While I will be looking on from above, I still want my life to be worth celebrating. I want my children to know me and know unconditional love from me. I want to build traditions for them that they can pass down and live with their own families and maybe remember me when I am not there anymore. I want my husband to know how much I love and cherish him. I want to be remembered for the woman I was – not what I did.
I also realized I want everyone to hear my favorite songs at my funeral. I’m going to make them all eat Thai food at the after meal and then I want everyone to meet around a campfire after the service to have a beer and toast marshmallows.
And because I share a life with a funeral director, I know that if I write it down and plan it, it can happen that way. In death – as in life – I can be the complete control freak that I am and have things my way one last time. And if I live my life the way I should, no one will mind.
I attended a funeral this week that touched me unlike any other.
For anyone who knows me, you know that we’ve attended a record number in the past year, so I have some relatively recent experience to draw upon.
This funeral was for my sister-in-laws father, whom I knew, but not well. But I always enjoyed his company. I felt really lucky to have been able to spend Christmas Eve with her family at our church’s kid-service. Little did I know it would be the last time I would see his smile.
The funeral was very touching because it was a sincere celebration of a life that many people would probably call unremarkable. There weren’t lists of awards or accollades. There weren’t trophies and “things” that commemorated his life. His obituary didn’t look like a re-tooled resume.
But the room was full and the tears were plenty as a life of true love and an unwavering dedication to family was recalled through laughter and sadness. There was not a single mention of regret. It didn’t exist. But the stories, the “dad always saids…”, the strength that he held throughout his final battle and the little things of his everyday life, filled the space with a celebration.
As we often do, I started to contemplate my own demise and realized that there are some little things I need to start doing in my life now – to have the kind of life I want to be remembered when it is my turn. While I will be looking on from above, I still want my life to be worth celebrating. I want my children to know me and know unconditional love from me. I want to build traditions for them that they can pass down and live with their own families and maybe remember me when I am not there anymore. I want my husband to know how much I love and cherish him. I want to be remembered for the woman I was – not what I did.
I also realized I want everyone to hear my favorite songs at my funeral. I’m going to make them all eat Thai food at the after meal and then I want everyone to meet around a campfire after the service to have a beer and toast marshmallows.
And because I share a life with a funeral director, I know that if I write it down and plan it, it can happen that way. In death – as in life – I can be the complete control freak that I am and have things my way one last time. And if I live my life the way I should, no one will mind.
Did Jesus Die of a Broken Heart?
Here’s some psychological, biblical and historical evidence to provide some support that Jesus died from the “broken heart syndrome” (technically a psychosomatic phenomena called “stress-induced cardiomyopathy“).
Psychological Studies
Older couples that have been married for many years suffer intense grief when their spouse suddenly dies. Some times the husband and wife are so close that when the one dies, the other will end up dying soon after because of pain of being separated from their loved one.
People have studied the psychosomatic effects of rejection and separation. Dr. James Lynch wrote a book called, The Broken Heart, in which he states:
“stress, pain, anxiety, fear and rage sometimes appear in indexes of textbooks on the heart but never love. In surprising number of cases of premature coronary heart disease and premature death, interpersonal unhappiness, the lack of love and human loneliness, seem to appear as root causes of the physical problems.
We have learned that human beings have varied and at times profound effects on the cardiac systems of other human beings. Loneliness and grief often overwhelm bereaved individuals and the toll taken on the heart can be clearly seen. As the mortality statistics indicate this is not myth or romantic fairy tale. All available evidence suggests that people do indeed die of broken hearts”
Dr. Arthur Brown has been acknowledged by over sixty medical journals and publications for his findings. His findings also suggest a major relationship between heart disease and emotional stress.
Dr. David Jenkins states in the New England Journal of Medicine, “that a broad array of recent studies point with ever increasing certainty to the position that certain psychological, social and behavioral conditions do put persons at a higher risk of clinically manifest coronary disease”.
Dr. George Ingle from Rochester University Medical School, did a careful study for six years that explored the backgrounds of 170 sudden heart attack deaths. His studies showed that a great majority of sudden death cases had a close personal lose precede their death.
Grief is proportional to intimacy.
The more you love somebody, the more you are hurt when that person dies or rejects you. Can you be so close to somebody that their rejection can literally break your heart?
The Biblical Evidence
Jesus had a great amount of rejection and grief. Let’s look first at what the Bible says about Jesus’ rejection.
“He was despised and forsaken of men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and like one from whom men hid their face, he was despised, and we did not esteem Him” Isaiah 53:3.
“Jesus said to them, “Did you never read in the Scriptures, ‘The stone (the stone refers to Jesus) which the builders (teachers of Israel) rejected, this became the chief corner stone;” Matthew 21:42.
“But when the vine-growers saw the son, they said among themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and seize his inheritance.’ And they took him, and threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him” Matthew 22:38-39.
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were unwilling” Matthew 23:37.
“But first He must suffer many things and be rejected by this generation” Luke 17:25.
“He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and world did not know Him. He came to His own and those who were his own did not receive Him” John 1:10-11.
“And you are unwilling to come to me that you might have life” John 5:40.
“’They hated Me without cause’” John 15:25b.
These are a few passages that talk about Jesus’ rejection. There are others that state or imply His rejection by the world that He “so loved.” Several of the parables are about how the multitudes rejected Jesus. The parable of the landowner (Matt. 21:33-42), and the parable of the wedding feast (Matt.22:2-10) both depict the rejection of Jesus.
The scripture makes it clear that our Lord and Savior was rejected by the majority of those He loved.
Since love suffers when it cannot give
and intimacy is proportional to grief
we would assume that Jesus must have had an overwhelming grief.
The Bible states clearly that Jesus did indeed have great amounts of grief.
In Matthew chapter 26 verses 37 through 38, Matthew writes,
“And He took with Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and distressed. Then He said to them, ‘My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death (italics added); remain here and keep watch with Me.’”
The entire chapter of Isaiah 53 describes Jesus’ grief. Here are the excerpts: “A man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief”; “surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows he carried”; “But the Lord was pleased to crush Him, putting Him to grief”; and “As a result of the anguish of His soul, He will see it and be satisfied”.
Sweating Blood:
The gospel of Luke (22:44) states, “And being in agony he was praying very fervently; and His sweat became like drops of blood, falling down upon the ground.”
C. Truman Davis, M.D. writes in his book, The Crucifixion of Jesus,
“Though very rare, the phenomenon of Hematidrosis, or bloody sweat, is well documented. Under great emotional stress, tiny capillaries in the sweat glands can break, thus mixing blood with sweat”.
Jesus bloody sweat is evidence of great grief.
Historical Evidence
The crucifixion was a horrible means of putting somebody to death. The criminal was nailed onto the cross in such a way that his legs would be bent at the knees. The bend in the knees placed all the criminals weight on his arms. This, of course, hurt the hands, but it did more than hurt the hands. The position that the cross placed the criminal in would cause muscle cramps throughout his body.
C. Truman Davis states (speaking of Jesus), “Hanging by His arms, the pectoral muscles are unable to act. Air can be drawn into the lungs, but cannot be exhaled” This disabled the criminal to let out his breath. In order to prevent suffocation, the criminal would have to push up with his legs to change position. After spasmodically pushing up with his legs, the criminal would take a quick breath of air before letting himself back down again.
The criminal would eventually die of asphyxiation, or suffocation. It was said that a strong man could hang on the cross, some say, up to ten days before their bodies were so tired that they could not continue the process to get breath. Jesus, who was most likely a healthy man (he was a carpenter) was on the cross for only six hours before He died (Mark 15:25, 33). Pilate, himself was astonished that Jesus died so quickly (Mark 15: 42-44).
The Roman soldiers were surprised Jesus died so quickly. The Jews did not want the bodies of the criminals to remain on the cross over the Sabbath, so they
“asked Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away. The soldiers therefore came, and broke the legs of the first man, and of the other man who was crucified with Him; (breaking the legs disabled the criminals to push up so that they could exhale the carbon dioxide; thus, the criminal would suffocate to death) but coming to Jesus, when they saw that He was already dead, they did not break His legs” John 19:31-33.
Jesus was in his early to middle thirties and was most likely a strong man since He was a carpenter and walked most everywhere He went. If Jesus did die the normal crucifixion death, why did He die so quickly? Couldn’t he have lived longer on the cross?
We read in John’s gospel (John 19:34) that “one of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and immediately there came out blood and water.” C. Truman Davis writes concerning the medical significance of the blood and water, “We, therefore, have rather conclusive post-mortem evidence that Our Lord died, not the usual crucifixion death by suffocation, but of heart failure…” (8). Heart failure that began to develop in the garden when Jesus was sweating blood, continued to build when he was rejected by many of his disciples and came to utter fruition when his people nailed him to a cross.
Let me suggest that Jesus died from stress-induced cardiomyopathy as a result of the rejection and grief he experienced as he walked the world.
Final thoughts from theologian Nicholas Wolterstorff:
God is love. That is why he suffers. To love our suffering, sinful world is to suffer. God so suffered for the world that he gave up his only Son to suffer. The one who does not see God’s suffering does not see his love. God is suffering love. Suffering is down at the center of things, deep down where the meaning is. Suffering is the meaning of our world. The tears of God are the meaning of history.
Holy Week Reflections on God’s Broken Heart
Floyd McClung had just finished teaching at a YWAM (Youth With A Mission) school, which involved speaking, personal ministry and personal counseling—18 hour days. Physically and spiritually exhausted, and simply “tired of people,” McClung boarded his plane back to his home in Amsterdam where he encounter the last thing he wanted—a needy, drunk man wanting his attention:
After a few minutes his head came around the corner. “Whatcha reading?” he asked as he peered over my shoulder. “My Bible,” I replied a bit impatiently. Couldn’t he see I wanted to be alone? I settled back in my seat, but a few minutes later the same pair of eyes were again looking over the top of my seat. “What kind of work do you do?” he asked.
Not wanting to get involved in a long conversation, I decided to make my answer brief. “A kind of social work,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t be interested. It bothered me a little that I was verging on not telling the truth, but I dared not tell him I was involved in helping needy people in the inner city of Amsterdam. That would be sure to provoke more questions.
“Mind if I sit by you?” he asked as he stepped over my crossed legs. He seemed to be oblivious to my efforts to avoid talking to him. He turned to face me and he reeked of alcohol. He spat as he spoke, sending a fine spray over my face.
I was deeply irritated by this man’s obnoxiousness. Couldn’t he see I wanted to be alone? All my plans for a quiet morning were destroyed by his insensitivity. “Oh God,” I groaned inwardly, “please help me.” The conversation moved slowly at first. I answered a few questions about our work in Amsterdam, and began to wonder why this man wanted so desperately to talk to someone. As the conversation unfolded it dawned on me that perhaps I was the one who was being insensitive.
“My wife was like you,” he said after a while. “She prayed with our children, sang to them and took them to church. In fact,” he said slowly, his eyes misting over, “she was the only real friend I ever had.”
“Had?” I asked. “Why are you referring to her in that way?”
“She’s gone.” By this time the tears were beginning to trickle down his cheeks. “She died three months ago giving birth to our fifth child. Why?” he gasped, “Why did your caring God take my wife away? She was so good. Why not me? Why her? And now the government says I’m not fit to care for my own children, and they’re gone too!”
I reached out and took his hand and we wept together. How selfish, how insensitive I had been. I had only been thinking of my need for a little rest when someone like this man desperately needed a friend. He filled in the rest of the story for me. After his wife died, a government appointed social worker recommended that the children be cared for by the state. He was so overwhelmed by grief that he couldn’t work, so he also lost his job. In just a few weeks he had lost everything, his wife, his children and his work. It was December so he had decided to leave; he couldn’t bear the thought of being at home alone for Christmas without his wife or children, and he was literally trying to drown his sorrows in alcohol.
He was almost too bitter to be comforted. He had grown up with four different step-fathers and he never knew his real dad. All of them were hard men. When I mentioned God he reacted bitterly. “God?” he said. “I think if there is a God he must be a cruel monster! Why did your loving God do this to me?
As I flew on the airplane with that wounded, hurt man, I was reminded again that many people in our world have no understanding of a loving God – a God who is a loving Father. To speak of a loving God, a God who is a Father, only evokes pain for them. And anger. To speak of the father heart of God to these people, without empathizing with their pain, verges on cruelty. The only way I could be a friend to that man, on the trip from Oslo to Amsterdam, was to be God’s love to him. I didn’t try to give pat answers. There were none. I just let him be angry and then poured some oil on his wounds. He wanted to believe in God, but deep inside his sense of justice had been violated. He needed someone to say that it was okay for him to be angry too. By the time I had listened and cared and wept with him, he was ready to hear me say that God was more hurt than he was by what had happened to his wife and family.
No one had ever told him that God has a broken heart. (8)
From “The Father Heart of God“
What does a broken hearted God imply?
It implies that God is not the victimizer… He’s not the master puppeteer behind this world of evil, but rather that HE HATES EVIL!
His grief reveals that God doesn’t have control over evil, for, if God controlled the evil, why would He grieve Himself?
God’s broken heart attests to his innocence, justice, hate of sin and effort to do everything in His power to stop sin. God is not the one inflicting suffering, He is the ultimate one who sufferers! Recognizing this alone has often staved my heart from losing faith in the goodness of God.
And maybe the cross is the pinnacle of that suffering. A suffering so intense that His body was unable to handle the grief and he died, not from the wounds of the body, but the wounds of the heart (more thoughts on this tomorrow).
