Heavy Hearts

The weather has been beautiful. The skies are the brightest blue with the most beautiful clouds. There is just a nip in the air and a few leaves are starting to turn. I've seen and held beautiful babies this week - rocking one of them to sleep, and held my wiggling puppy as he tried to give me kissies all over because he was so excited to me. After all, I had been gone a whopping 3 hours! I got to spend the weekend with John-Paul and Allie. I love going to their house! And I've talked to Becky every day. Tim and I are planning a weekend get-away to Gatlinburg. All seems right with the world.

But all is not right with the world. Not for a lot of people. While in Sumiton with John-Paul and Allie last weekend I got a phone call that one of the young men that went to our church and went to school with John-Paul and Becky had been brutally murdered. We knew him well. His mother was Becky's piano teacher. John-Paul had tried many times to help the young man. Help him? How? What was wrong? Jesse was a good kid. He had a sad story, but he was a good kid. Jesse's mother was a precious lady who had lived a hard life. Her husband, Jesse's dad, was an alcoholic. He literally drank them into poverty. Severe poverty. Regina tried hard to provide for her family and to take care of her two boys, but teaching piano lessons doesn't make one rich. And besides, her husband would find her earnings that she tried to hide and spend them on alcohol. She never complained. She always forgave him and always hoped that he would straighten up and do right. "He's really such a good man. When he's not drinking he's a wonderful husband and father," she would say. We never could figure out if she was trying to convince us - her friends - or herself. She always apologized for him, covered for him, always loved him.

And then tragedy struck Regina is a most horrific way. While teaching piano at the church one day to two little girls, sisters, she collapsed at the keyboard. The girls ran screaming for help because Miss Regina had fainted and wouldn't wake up. Regina didn't wake up for quite a while. The doctors said that Regina had a brain tumor. Regina had a malignant tumor in her brain. She fought valiantly. She fought hard. She fought until the very end. But the cancer won. Regina died, leaving her two sons with an alcoholic father. One of my last conversations with her, she confided over and over again that she was worried about the boys. "He's good, Debbie, but I just don't know if he knows how to take care of the boys. But, he's really a good man. Please don't think he's not." Even in her final days, she was still wanting people to see the good in this mostly-absentee, abusive, alcoholic man she called her husband. My heart broke for her and the boys. At her death, this husband that she said was such a good man didn't even assist in the arrangements for her funeral. He was out drinking somewhere because he was so brokenhearted. Some of us ladies in the church choir took care of all the arrangements, with assistance from her sister in Tampa, Florida. She didn't even have a dress to wear. We made sure she looked very good for her last church service.

And now, just a few short years later, I found out that Jesse had been murdered. Jesse had gotten in with the wrong crowd, and like so many other young kids got messed up with drugs and alcohol. Jesse was a smart boy. He had a lot of potential. He really could have done great things. But life for Jesse was hard. Too hard. He was accepted to Lee University, but he never finished. He would start and stop, and at his death had just started back to Cleveland State. His friends said he was doing pretty good...trying to turn his life around. He had started back to school, was trying really hard to "be good" and by one account, had even turned his life over to God again. John-Paul and his friends tried many times through the years to help Jesse, to be a good influence and a positive role model for him. But life was just too hard. It's easy to do the right thing when you're with the right people in the right place, but when you have to go back home and face the monster of real life, it's just too hard. Too hard for someone who wasn't real strong in the first place. Jesse was out with some friends celebrating a birthday party when the intruder arrived. Jesse tried to protect the girls from the intruder and they got into a physical struggle. The intruder stabbed Jesse with a large hunting knife. The word is that as Jesse lay dying he was praying. His girlfriend prayed with him. He bled out in less than five minutes, but he had time to pray. Regina was a good woman who loved the Lord and taught her boys to love the Lord. Jesse didn't always live right, but he knew Who to call in time of trouble. Jesse made things right with God and today, Jesse is with Regina again! Happy reunion!

His dad? Well, his dad is still the same, perhaps even worse. He has cirrhosis of the liver in advanced stages and probably won't live long. Jesse was killed on a Friday night, actually the wee early morning hours of Saturday. His dad never even went to the funeral home to make the arrangements for his memorial service. After five days, Jesse's friends finally went to the funeral home and made the arrangements. Jesse leaves behind a younger brother. We all worry about him. What will he do? Where will he go? What will he become? Only God knows.

Jesse has consumed my heart and mind this week. I've remembered many times I saw him, talked to him, spent time with his mother. I've felt guilt for not doing enough. I should have done more to help them. I think most of us who knew them are sharing the load of guilt. OUr hearts are heavy.

And then, there are other friends who come calling. We got a phone call yesterday from some friends that we've had for years. Friends that we've been in ministry with. They have really struggled in ministry the past few years and it has taken a toll. They are tired. They are weak and worn out from the battle. It has taken a toll physically on both of them. They are tired of fighting. They have lost their drive, lost their determination, lost their fight. They want to come home to rest. Sometimes the fight becomes too much. It's not always a bad thing to take a few steps back to rest and recover strength. That's when others go to the front to continue fighting for you. They have come back to Cleveland. They said they wanted to come back here because they felt safe here. She said they came back here because we are here. We, Tim and I, they came back because we are here. We went out to dinner with them. We listened to them talk and pour out their hearts. Their hearts are hurting and they needed someone to listen and understand. We've been there. We know what it's like. We understand. After the guys went home, she and I stayed and talked til almost 1 a.m. We literally talked from 5:30 p.m. to 12:45 a.m. Seven hours of pouring out her heart. We laughed. We cried. They are hurting. They've been beat up. They just look exhausted. When I first saw her, I hugged her and said "Welcome back to Cleveland. Welcome home. It's been hard, hasn't it?" Her eyes teared up and she just nodded. Yeah, it's been hard. It's hard to watch people abuse your husband in the name of ministry. It's hard to watch your husband deteriorate physically from the stress. It's hard to have to take control of a situation that your husband would normally and in the past always did take care of. It's hard to keep a right attitude when you're being mistreated. My heart is heavy for them. I know what they're going through. But it won't last forever. They are home where they feel safe, but just being here won't solve the problems. They can rest for awhile, but they will eventually have to face the problem, deal with it and move on with their lives. And they will.

Yepper, it's been a hard week...I've had a heavy heart. My heart hurts for others who are also hurting. But I can rejoice in knowing that the One who knows all things can heal all the hurts. Hearts aren't heavy forever. He gladly lifts our burdens and our hearts are light once again!