My Life in His Hands
A Story of Faith Written by Tiffany Mehner
“. . . let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:1-2)
My life wasn’t easy or perfect, but I knew what it was. Matt and I had finally moved back to our home state after living far from our extended families for over 10 years. He had his dream job working with his alma mater and we’d moved into our dream home. Our family was finally settled into where we thought we should be. The future felt bright. It was then that my world turned upside down.
My husband of 18 years died suddenly of a heart attack. I was widowed at 38 years old and left with six children ranging in age from 16 years to 18 months. Surrounded by caring friends, neighbors and family, I somehow survived those first few weeks of my new life of widowhood. However, I was overwhelmed and raw with hurt. I felt such responsibility for my children and I felt so alone.
The life I had planned, the life I knew how to do was gone.
I didn’t know how to move forward. I couldn’t see the way. Written many times throughout my journal during those first months in big angry letters is the word WHY??? What had I done to deserve this? Was God punishing me? Did He think I could handle this? And what was His plan for my life now? So many questions and so many pleadings for understanding filled my mind.
At first, I just wanted my husband back and I yearned to feel him. I missed him greatly. Grief came at me in waves. They would wash over me and at first I felt like I was drowning in them. Slowly, the waves began to come further apart and were not as big. Still, every now and then a “sneaker wave” of grief would knock me down. At the end of one of those days where I felt I could barely breathe, I remember kneeling down and pleading with my Father in Heaven for respite, for peace, for a removal of the pain. It was then that I was reminded of the suffering of the Savior. He bore the unjust weight of all mankind’s sorrows and He did it with patience and grace.
“For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God.” (1 Peter 3:18)
I knew I could gain strength through my faith in Him and so I kept pushing forward. Turning to scripture for help when I was utterly exhausted, I read:
“. . . let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:1-2)
About eight months after Matt’s death I was at an outdoor event with my kids. My youngest, two-year old Sammy was running and rolling on the grass. He suddenly stopped and watched a dad playing with a little boy about his age. The dad was lying on the ground lifting the little guy over his head like an airplane. My Sammy watched like he didn’t know what that was like. And it struck me that he didn’t and he never will. It felt so wrong and so unfair! I felt frustrated and angry, and It seemed like so many things were not right. I was alone, my children were fatherless and hurting, and I had nothing to look forward to. I tried to have faith that the pathway would open and I would see the way ahead, but it took such effort to get through each day.
While struggling to accept and navigate this new life, I began to recognize tender moments of peace and understanding. I learned quickly to rely upon scripture to help answer my questions and soothe my soul. They became a lifeline for me. While reading, I found messages of inspiration and love. I clung to Proverbs 3:5.
“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.”
When I turned to Christ I found that He could lift and support me as my husband once had. As I prayed, I felt His tenderness and love for me. I felt like His daughter and felt wrapped in gentleness and kindness. My love for Him grew.
Still, I did not know what He wanted for my life. To that point my life had followed the blueprint I was familiar with; go to college, get married, have children. I needed to know the new master plan. I spent hours in scripture and prayer and still could not see it. At times, I was angry that God hadn’t shown me the way. I felt like I was navigating my life and the lives of six others completely blind and I was so tired.
Mothering took up most of my time and energy. My three oldest, all boys, naturally struggled trying to make sense of life without their beloved dad. I read all I could about grieving teenagers and tried my best to help them navigate their feelings. I was grateful for the punching bag Matt and I had bought the Christmas before he died. Often, my oldest would bloody his knuckles on that bag. My little girls also felt the loss deeply. Brittany, my five-year-old, was eventually diagnosed with and treated for childhood depression. I ached for the hurt all my children were feeling. While I suffered myself, most of my prayers and pleadings were for them. I learned to have patience for the way they were grieving and the choices they were making as a result. It was a time of great stretching as a mother. I felt the love and patience of the Savior as I tried to be like Him. I felt known by Him as I read 1 Thessalonians 1:3
“Remembering without ceasing your work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, in the sight of God and our Father.”
While we were adjusting to our new reality, I was blessed again and again through the kindness of others around me. We were served and loved by so many as we fought to make it through our first year alone. I could clearly see Christ’s love through others who were inspired to help and love us.
One day, a sweet friend, Joelle, showed up at my front door. She tentatively asked me if I’d thought about what I wanted to do with Matt’s clothes. They were still hanging in the closet where I would often go to try to feel close to him. Joelle shared with me her inspiration to make quilts for each of the kids. I agreed to her idea and our little family met together in the closet to choose the clothes for the quilts. We laughed and cried as we retold experiences with dad wearing the different pieces of clothing the kids recognized. Innumerable women gathered over many months to carefully cut and sew the familiar shirts, ties and pants of our Matt into beautiful quilts. I am humbled by the many hands that worked to wrap my children in memories of their father. The Christmas day they opened the quilts is a sacred memory for me.
I had a family picture taken that first year. I was determined to make a normal family out of the shattered, broken mess that I felt we were. I was proud of that photograph. I hung it above the fireplace and thought to myself, “Okay, now I can see the version of my life He wants for me.” By then, I’d come to the conclusion that since my original plan for my life had been erased and I hadn’t been given the exact memo for my new one, I’d make my own plan. I had determined I’d be a single mother, I would not think about dating at least until my oldest boys were out of the house, and I’d probably go back to school when Sam started kindergarten. When I look back on that picture now, I see different things. I’m still proud of that strong, sad, single mother and those grieving children standing around her, but I chuckle because I still had so much to learn.
God did not intend for me to be a single mother for long, and a few years later, I was led to a wonderful widower with four daughters. What I thought of as an empty shattered life soon became full to overflowing with a family of ten children. When I first remarried and gained four wonderful step-daughters I thought for sure I could make this a big, happy family. I could imagine the new picture on the wall.
God was patient with me again when I thought I knew his plan. We have a big family, but we’ve had our share of struggles, and we are still learning how to make it work. We haven’t had a big family picture taken for several years, and it may be several more before that happens. While I feel blessed to be married, second marriages are particularly hard work. My current husband and I parent differently and we’ve had to learn to work together and sometimes separately when dealing with our family. Relationships with my own children and step-children have, at times, been strained. While I’ve found great joy in bringing this family together, I’ve also felt great sorrow and frustration as it doesn’t look like what I expected.
I am learning to have patience and trust in God’s timing and plan. Again and again over the last sixteen years I’ve learned that I find peace when I focus on the Savior and my relationship with Him rather than on trying to make my life something I think it should be. I’ve felt reassurance many times that the decisions I’ve made are good ones and that my children will be okay and yet many of my children still suffer. God is patient with me as I sometimes fall back into asking “why”? So, I am striving to be patient with my children as they work out their own relationships with Him and come to understand His plan for them.
Life is so different now than it once was, and it continues to evolve and change. I’ve finally learned to not hold so tightly to what I think should be. There is freedom in giving my life over to God. God has my life in His hands and I’m fine with that. I don’t fear loss, change, or grief because Christ shows me the way through those things. Sorrow is a part of life, but so is joy. I have found joy and peace in waiting for the next step by strengthening my relationship with Christ. I’ve discovered that God illuminates just enough for us to move forward with faith because I’ve felt Him with me along the way. I can wait for some of the promises and reassurances He’s given me to be fulfilled because I trust Him and have faith in His love for me.
“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31, KJV)