Joy in the Mourning

My brother left this week to prepare for deployment to Afghanistan. He's stationed at Ft. Hood. I'm grateful beyond words that he is okay, but my heart grieves for all the families who lost loved ones there yesterday.

While I don't know why terrible things like this happen, a friend blessed me recently by sharing how God healed the sorrow in their family and turned it into something good. In 2006 Jerry and Pat Prosapio lost their teenage daughter Katie in a tragic accident. Katie was a talented musician and writer, and in the months before she went home to the Lord, she was preparing to go overseas to help those who were being persecuted for their faith.

Now the Prosapios have started a remarkable ministry called Katie's Comfort to encourage and support families who are grieving the loss of a loved one. As a tribute to Katie and those who lost their lives yesterday, here is a beautiful essay written by Laura Prosapio, almost four years after her sister's death.

Joy in the Mourning

by Laura Prosapio

Deeming an event as “extraordinary” is not the most common occurrence. The word “extraordinary” immediately implies that something wonderful and miraculous has taken place, and that because it has occurred, a person will never be the same. Well, God has worked extraordinarily in my life, and He has changed me. He has showed me that He can create something beautiful from a tragedy.

The lowest point in my life was when I heard the news. I was at my friend’s house next door, and her mother told me to go home right away because she got a call from my mom. I figured that my family was having dinner, and they needed me home. However, I realized this was not the case when, peering through the screen door, I saw my mom, dad, and brother standing at the top of the stairs, obviously distressed. My sixth grade mind never expected the worst. I simply reasoned to myself that my pet rabbit had died, and that they were looking for a way to tell me. How wrong I was!

My dad sat me down on the couch in our living room, and all he had to utter was, “Our church got a call from the director of Rockford Master’s Commission. Katie was in a car accident. She’s in Heaven.” Time seemed to stop. Feelings of sadness and disbelief entered my mind. For those few moments, nothing else mattered. My only sister, my big sis Katie, was dead, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

In the days that ensued after I heard the news, the emotional wake and funeral came and went. Through every waking moment, I felt as though I was living a nightmare. Surely, this tragedy could not be true! Although I knew the harsh reality of my sister’s death, I still expected Katie to call on the phone. I anticipated that she would walk through our front door at home and run up the stairs to give me one of her big bear hugs. As I realized that these thoughts were only pipe dreams, bleakness filled me, and I felt distressed and alone. I wondered why God would allow something like this to happen to me and my family and, most of all, to my sister. She had such amazing aspirations for God. She was planning to become a missionary to India. Why did she have to die? Why did a young Christian woman, only nineteen years old, have to leave this earth by some cruel twist of fate? Well, what I did not realize at this time was that God’s hand was in all that had taken place. None of my heartbreak and grief was out of God’s plan. Little did I know that God would soon turn my tears into gladness.

The first trace of purpose from Katie’s death was when my sixth grade teacher came to my house, evidently very excited. She disclosed to my family that three of my classmates had asked her to help them ask Jesus into their lives; this happened right after they heard about Katie’s death. Although I attended a Christian school, it had taken my sister’s love for God, posthumously, for some of my peers to fully devote their lives to Him. Immediately, I felt honored to be Katie’s sister. My breath was taken away at how God was still working through Katie’s life, even when I thought He was finished.

Since that first time of seeing God’s purpose in my sister’s death, more than I could ever imagine has unfolded from His perfect plan. People have been touched more and more from Katie’s life. Before my sister went to be with Jesus, she wrote and composed a song in honor of the persecuted church around the world. This song has touched countless people, including three thousand souls at a Christian crusade in Nigeria. The song was even played at a Gospel for Asia conference in Texas, where missionaries from all over the globe came to be encouraged by fellow Christians.

Another amazing occurrence unfurled from God’s plan about a year ago, when my family was informed that a Teen Challenge Center was to be constructed in Cambodia for young men who suffered from lifestyle addictions. The center was going to be named “Katie Hall” in honor of my sister. Katie’s dream seemed to be coming true­ to bring hope to the lost people in the continent of Asia. I was in awe of God’s mighty power working to fulfill Katie’s desires.

God has continued to astound me time and time again. After some time of not knowing God’s purpose in Katie’s death, and thinking that I would never understand why my sister was taken away from me, I have now been able to see God’s hand in every aspect of her life and even her death.

Getting over Katie’s passing and the lack of her presence has been challenging, but the Lord, our Savior, has been there for me through it all. Of course, there have been moments when I’ve simply needed to talk to my sister. Through the milestones of life, especially, I’ve missed her. But, the grief and sadness of the first day I found out about her death have passed. The Lord has given me a fresh, new joy every day, and I thank the Lord for His unfailing presence.

If I look at God’s point of view, the waves and storms of life seem drastically smaller. Countless times I have looked at my sister’s death from my point of view. Every tiny wave of grief feels like it will swallow me. Looking at hardships from my point of view is disheartening, and these hardships never seem to improve as long as the waves keep coming. But as I look at what God has brought me through, and as I stand on God’s truths, it is as if I am on the top of a lighthouse, safe from the hurt and struggles. Sure, difficulties are bound to come my way, but they will always seem so much smaller when I cling to Christ as my foundation.

It is because of this hope that I’ve been able to live my life normally again. Even if I had the choice to bring her back, I would not. Although this may seem awfully extreme, I mean it wholeheartedly. Katie is in such a better place now, basking in the presence of God with no worries and no cares. The Lord is continuing to work through her life, and mine, as God is giving me the honor of sharing hope with those around me who are hopeless.

Three years ago, when I was walking through the valley of the shadow of death, I never would have imagined that God would have brought me to the point that I am now. He has made me more in love with Him from a situation that seemed dark and grim. His extraordinary joy has always come in the morning, and even in my mourning.

Fall Pictures

It doesn't seem possible, but last month I celebrated my 40th birthday. Jon surprised me with a wonderful trip to visit friends in Colorado and then we escaped to the mountains to swim in a hot springs pool and hike up to Hanging Lake. The perfect birthday weekend!

I'm grateful to God for the many blessings in my life, and I'm grateful for my friends and family. Thank you to each of you who made this day/month so special for me. Here are a few pictures from our birthday weekend and a couple pictures of my little Cinderella and Snow White last weekend.

God's Gift

...how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him. (Matt. 7:11)

In March Kiki lost her Leapster (a handheld gaming system for kids). It was her Christmas present, and she loved, loved to play Nemo and Diego on it. We prayed and scoured the house and waited, but the Leapster never reappeared. So for her birthday in June, we purchased another Leapster for her gift, and she now "checks" it out and in to the Mommy library so it won't get lost again.

But yesterday, when she checked out the Leapster, it didn't work so I changed the batteries, expecting it to flash on. Nothing happened. It was dead. I asked the girls if they'd dropped it, and Karly informed me that the last time they played with it they gave the Leapster a bath. Sigh... As my friend Laura tells her children, electronics and water do not mix.

As we walked this morning, I prayed, asking God to please reveal where the old Leapster was hidden. I felt a little silly asking for it, but God was the only one who knew where it was...

And then God did a miracle for me and my girls. Minutes after we got back from our walk, I started cleaning the house. We have a small den in the front of the house that is rarely used (our only "adult" room), and I picked up the cushions from the couch to straighten them. There, tucked under the big cushion, was the green Leapster. I stared in shock. After six months of searching, it reappeared. Minutes after I prayed. There was no coincidence about it.

I called the girls into the room, and they cheered and clapped over God's gift for us today. It may seem like a small thing, but for my girls, it was huge. A miracle. Almost as if God had waited six months, waited for us to ask one more time, so we could truly see His love and His power. Together we rejoiced.

Stepping Back in Time in the Amana Colonies

In August I spent a week touring the remarkable Amana Colonies in Iowa to research my new historical novel (Love Finds You in Homestead, Iowa). There are seven quaint villages in the Amanas with 19th-century homes and shops built from brick, wood, and sandstone and surrounded by colorful gardens and trees. I felt as if I'd traveled back a hundred years or so as I visited the bakery (where they still bake on the open hearth), the rustic church buildings, the butcher shop, the mill, and the former Amana kitchens that now serve schnitzel, sauerkraut, spaetzle, and sweet rhubarb and dandelion wine.

A glassy canal cuts through the rolling farmland owned by the Amanas, and when I biked along it one afternoon, I discovered the beautiful Lily Lake with hundreds of yellow blooms canvassing the water. The Iowa River also traverses through the Colonies along with a train that woke me up at 4 a.m. every morning as it whistled and chugged its way through town.

I stayed at the Die Heimat Inn in Homestead which was built in the 1850s and used for 30 years as a communal kitchen. The Amana Colonies operated as a commune for 80 years (ending in 1932), and as part of their communal living, they ate together in community kitchens, attended church and prayer meetings together eleven times a week, and worked together either in town or in the farmlands that surrounded each of the seven villages.

No one received a paycheck in Amana. Each person worked hard at an assigned job, and then everything was provided for them--food, clothing, their home, medical care, furniture, and even the sky blue paint that added color to the rooms inside every building in the Amanas. The Amana people didn't worry about food or any of their physical needs so they devoted their time to reading, prayer, making beautiful crafts, and helping the many transients who stopped by the Colonies for a bite to eat.

During the Great Depression, the Amana Colonies separated their church community from their business corporation. The Amanas still worked together, but they began receiving pay for their work and learned quickly how to provide for themselves. While I was visiting the Colonies, I met a number of wonderful people whose parents were part of what they refer to as the "Great Change," and I was blessed to spend time with one 92-year-old man who grew up in Amana while it was a commune.

Even though the Amana Colonies no longer operate as a commune, there is still a strong sense of community and faith in this community. Residents value their friendships and the foundations of the Amana Church just like their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents did.

As I begin this next novel, I'm excited to encapsulate the strength and beauty and the community of the Amanas through a story about a heartbroken man and his young daughter who are trying to find their way home.

Here are some pictures from my trip:

Vacation in Washington

We just returned from a wonderful week of rest in North Central Washington. We biked in the Cascades, went tubing down the Wenatchee River, toured the Bavarian town of Leavenworth, swam every day, hiked, toured a candy factory, rode a ferry boat for four hours up to the remote village of Sterhekin, slept in, watched movies, read fun books, and ate way too much junk food. I don't think I'll be able to eat another French fry for months. :)

It was a blessing for us to be able to spend so many days playing and relaxing together. Here are a few pix from our trip:

Pix from Crater Lake Trip

We headed down to the pristine Crater Lake in Southern Oregon last weekend and "camped" in a yurt. Thankfully, the yurt had electricity so Jon made an emergency trip to Wal-Mart for a fan that kept us fairly cool at night since it was hot, hot there.

We explored an old gold mining town called Golden and peaked in all the windows (my favorite thing to do!). We met up with friends for a long lunch by the lake, and then late at night, Karly and I went outside and looked at the thousands of stars above the campground. She began praying, thanking God for the gift of stars and their beauty. When she said, "Amen," a shooting star traveled across the sky, and we celebrated the "God sighting" together. He is SO good!!