Chasing Hope in the Midst of Loss

I was standing in the community garden on a field trip with my daughter’s second grade class when I received the phone call. My husband’s voice on the other end was hushed, notably different from his typical playful and loud coaching voice. Results of biopsy. Melanoma cancer. I stood there frozen between the rows of kale and corn, holding a bag of water bottles for the kids. My healthy, athletic husband had cancer. At 40. I felt the wind knocked clear out of me. The fear started to suffocate me.

We had known for weeks about this strange bump on his right hip. I witnessed him experiencing increasing discomfort in that area, but we had believed as many had told us that this was a torn muscle. I had never let my mind wander to the C-word. My first instinct was to sink into a heap right there in the garden and cry. I had no idea what God was doing but I knew He intended to use our story for His glory. I had to choose to push back the fear and cling to hope.

Clinging to Hope as our Anchor

As the summer progressed, so did my husband’s cancer. After a pet scan we learned that his cancer was in stage four. The cancer had already spread to his lymph nodes and spots were showing on his lungs. We canceled our mission trip to Haiti and our summer vacation. My husband stepped down from his jobs directing a non-profit and coaching at the CrossFit gym. We visited lots of doctors and considered lots of treatments. One way I chose hope in those moments was to bathe myself and my fears in God’s word. A mentor of mine encouraged me years ago to make a little notebook of scriptures to read when I was fearful or anxious. I carry them in my purse, bring them on trips, and keep them near my nightstand. In the doctor’s office and the hospital room, at home and in the car, I read these truths over my husband. I memorized them. These meditations lifted us out of the mental battle, the worst-case scenario fears that threatened to sink our ship.

I love how the book of Hebrews talks about hope as an anchor: “Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us. This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls” (Hebrews 6:18-19). During these months, as I watched my husband and all our dreams as a couple and family quickly deteriorating, I ran to my Heavenly Father for refuge. While everything felt uncertain, he was my confidence and strength. My boat was weary and whipped by the stormy waters, floundering in the wind, but surprisingly my anchor was secure.

Hope journeys hand-in-hand with faith. Hope believes in the unseen. Hope is a confident expectation in the loving and deliberate work of the Father. It’s leaning into the pain and trusting the outcome. I distinctly remember when I was birthing my second baby girl that my natural reaction was to tense my muscles and hold my breath when contractions came. My midwife gently advised me to take deep, long, measured breaths to carry me through the pain.

She was right. I needed to exhale fear and breathe in deeply with hope that each contraction was bringing me closer to my baby girl. Now I know this applies to more than just birthing. Breathing hope is what held me together in our darkest days.

Grieving with Hope

My husband took a giant leap into Heaven on September 9, 2014. This is never the story I would have written for myself and my children, but I know God does not intend for my story to be wasted. I have a different kind of hope than many people have. God has provided for our family in so many unexpected ways. I have an opportunity to share my hope with others and serve as a living example of His glory story.

Hope is what sets us apart as believers. My grief is different from someone who does not have faith because I grieve with hope. I grieve believing I will see my Ericlee in the future. I draw hope from the knowledge that if we commit our lives to following Jesus Christ and share Him with others, our separation from loved ones on earth through death will only be temporary.

I have always loved the story of Ruth. She takes refuge under the wings of God (Ruth 2:12), and He provides miraculously for her. When her husband dies, she remains loyal to her mother-in-law and accompanies her to a new home. She breaks loose from the chains of poverty by humbly asking permission to glean extra grain from the fields that were already harvested. Through her hard work and integrity, she gains not just food but also the attention of a man named Boaz.

It’s a story of redemption. A story of beauty from ashes. An unexpected love story.

Not by accident I found myself back in the book of Ruth when I was learning to navigate my own grief. Although I had studied the book before, it gained new meaning for me as a widow. As I read the story with fresh eyes, I discovered something distinct: Ruth grieves with hope. She believes she has a future. She takes a risk to uncover God’s plan for that future. I began to pray that God would help me to live like Ruth.

Navigating Hope with my Children

Part of this grief journey has been helping my three daughters navigate the loss of their daddy. My desire has been to create a safe space for them to cry and remember. In the car and at the dinner table, we share memories. We imagine what he might be doing in Heaven today. Is he coaching the angels in a track meet? Is he eating his favorite ice cream? Is he hanging out with Noah and Daniel?

As a family, we are learning how to grieve both individually and collectively. Recognizing that each of my daughters is unique proves important now more than ever. My oldest doesn’t like to cry in front of people while my middle little needs someone to hold her close when those tears come. When my now 6-year-old missed her Daddy in the early days, she was comforted by pictures on my phone and videos with his voice. They each have their own unique grief journey.

Two years ago, through a wild weaving together of threads in my life, I married one of my late husband’s best friends. Shawn has courageously walked through the grief with my daughters and me. He has joined us in the daily dance of joy and pain. He has provided comfort, companionship and confidence where we needed it most. My girls love him as their new daddy. His presence in our lives is a daily reminder that we serve a God of hope who always holds our future in His hands.