Hello everyone,

One year ago today, May 11th, my dear wife and your dear friend Karen went home to be with the Lord. I thought that today would be an appropriate day to recognize on CaringBridge.

Thank you to all of you who have reached out to me recently knowing that May contains a spate of anniversaries that are emotionally hard to navigate. Obviously, today is one of them. I have been trying to not let myself wander more than is appropriate into the “where was I one year ago today” memories, but this month that has been harder because of the intensity of what we went through. Last Thursday, May 6th was a year to the day that we returned home from the hospital for hospice, and I as prayed that morning I found myself wandering around looking at all the flowers people sent us which I had planted and now are blooming again. I also found myself reading through a few of the cards and letters we received then, which have still been sitting on Karen’s writing desk. Yes, all of that sounds quite melancholy, and you would think it would produce extreme sadness, but actually the feeling I was overwhelmed with was gratitude—gratitude for the memory of all the help and support we received, and gratitude to God for how beautiful that hospice week ended up being even in the pain and trauma.

I also felt much gratitude as I re-read the words people poured out. There were so many letters, none of which I responded to because there were too many, but every one of which I was grateful for. People described Karen’s impact on their lives. Some shared stories. Some were profound. One I came across said,

“She left an impression on me that I have not forgotten. I remember coming to dinner at your house…and asking all kinds of questions about your time serving in East Asia. I remember Karen saying that she thought she had one more country left in her before she got too old. I remember thinking to myself, ‘Wow. I want that woman’s heart and energy for the gospel.’ Through years of ministry, it was clear that Karen’s love for Jesus and desire for people to experience him had only deepened. As I read through the CaringBridge posts and what was said about her, I can only worship at how her love for God and people had such profound impact.

“I am only 10 years into ministry, and more sure than ever of how much I have to learn. But I know what I want—I still want Karen’s heart and energy for the gospel. …I am filled with gratitude for her example as one of the saints who has gone before me.”

For those of you asking how Elizabeth and I are doing, I will say well, overall. Lizzy tends to Instagram her thoughts, so I will refer you to that for her. In case you haven’t heard she will transitioning back to the US in June and moving to Orlando to work with Cru’s MK2MK missionary kid ministry, at which she will be fantastic.

For my part, I have many fine days and weeks as time goes by, which you would expect, but I am still in emotional transition even a year later. It is the same indescribable mix of grief and joy—grief over what I now miss, but joy over what Karen has now gained. I spent a large portion of the year reading a work by the Puritan Thomas Goodwin, Of the Blessed State of Glory Which the Saints Possess After Death. (Yes, I read 17th century books. I’m weird that way.) The whole book meditates on 2 Cor. 5:1-6, and I have tried to practice remembering how amazing it must be that Karen is now “clothed in her heavenly dwelling” instead of just thinking, “I lost my wife last year.” After all, isn’t it better she be there? And if I really love her, wouldn’t I want that for her? It’s a continual battle between these two emotions.

The tricky part for me currently is this long road of figuring out my new normal. Even a year later, I still feel like the Alan of Alan & Karen, but now in reality I am just Al. That’s hard to figure out. I don’t know Just Al. I have never met that guy. I don’t know what he does every evening after work, or every year on May 19th when his former wedding anniversary rolls around. What’s he like? A counselor friend of mine remarked that one of the things I might need to learn is that Just Al is a person who will always have a hole in his heart; that might just be part of who he is. That was helpful, I think. Just like another friend quoted from some well-known grief authors in one of those cards I read,

“The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again, but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same, nor should you want to.”

 So, Just Al is still working out his new life, trying to learn his new normal. A widower friend told me that it was probably two years before he ever had a day he considered normal. That’s nice to know, I suppose. I guess I will find myself there eventually.

In all of it, I remain amazed at the faithfulness and comfort that the Lord provides. I never doubt his goodness. He makes me walk closely with him every day, and it seems hardly a week goes by without something reminding me of all his kindnesses. The result is, yes, gratitude. Recently I received a copy of John Piper’s newest work, Providence. No surprise, I immediately turned to the section entitled “God’s Providence Over Life and Death.” It was there I encountered these words.

“God is the author of every life (Isa. 57:16; Zech. 12:1), the agent of every deliverance from death (Ps. 68:20), the one who decides the length of every lifetime (Ps. 139:16) and the moment of every death (Job 1:21). In one final act of absolute authority over life and death, he will, in the last day, raise every life from the dead—“both the just and the unjust” (Acts 24:15)—and assign the eternal destiny of each: “some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt” (Dan. 12:2; cf. John 5:28–29).

“Let me ask you, my reader: in whose power would you want your life and death to lie? In whose hands would you prefer the destiny of your loved ones to rest? Would you want the length of your life and theirs to be in the hands of Satan? Or in the hands of aimless fate? Or in the hands of mindless and haphazard natural forces? Surely not. Nor are they! Every breath is in the hands of God (Job 12:10; Isa. 42:5; Dan. 5:23; Acts 17:25).”

I reflect, now, that I know what it is to see God’s providence and sovereignty in action even when pain is involved. I am here to tell you that this does not challenge our faith, it strengthens it. There is no comfort in haphazardness. But to know that God is working all things for our good even in birth and death, that is a place of peace and goodness, and that is where I am, even though I still do not feel whole. Piper again:

“Indeed, let us encourage each other with the glorious truth that life and death, now and forever, are in the hands of God. His merciful, all-encompassing providence is our strength while we live and our hope when we die. Blessed be the name of the Lord (Job 1:21).”

Indeed.

Thanks to all of you who have blessed and continue to bless us, and to celebrate the memory of Karen. We love you!

PS – In case you have not heard, some friends and I have started a small philanthropy project in Karen’s honor. No, you don’t donate money, you donate blood. Over the year of her illness, Karen received a dizzying amount of blood and platelet transfusions. I estimate at least 50. We want to pay that back, so we have started a blood donation team called “Karen’s 50.” If you would like to donate in her honor, download the Blood Donor Red Cross app onto your phone, create an account, then go to the ‘Impact’ tab. Search for “Karen’s 50” (you may have to scroll down), then tap on it and choose ‘Join.’ Our goal is to replace everything Karen received and more, as a blessing we are paying forward. If you want to join us, thanks for being a part!