The Great Pumpkins
This is my pumkin seed packet. I'm hoping I take home first prize in the York Fair this fall for sure.
Death is so hard for me to face. It’s been sometime now since I’ve posted. I was doing so well too. Every time I get the nerve to write my body becomes boneless and I just can’t move. It’s so hard for me to write. It’s hard because I want to dig deep for people to see what is happening in my life, but it’s so hard to invite others in when I can’t even find my way around on my own.
I’m not even sure who’s watching these posts. If you are reading, I can’t thank you enough. This is where my heart is right now. I just can’t wrap my mind around that I had a son and he’s in the ground just over a mile away from here.
If you were to see me you would definitely say that John Miller is doing fine. Pam and I are laughing, planning, and enjoying life in so many new ways. You would see that John Miller is doing well. If my life was a house you would see me doing so many different things in it: designing, listening to new music, playing Settlers of Catan with Pam, and definitely still painting the house (to be explained later for sure). Pam and I just finished an addition to our house. We finished off half our attic and built an office for me. It’s the first time since I left Living Word that I’ve taken my books out of boxes and looked at them again. One of my new hobbies is constantly rearranging them on my new bookshelves. U2 gets two full book shelves.
Heck, I’ve been so set on projects around the house lately that I decided to try and grow 4 pumpkins that can grow up to 500lbs in my back yard. Why? Why not. I think they might be great porch decorations come Halloween. My neighbor, Vince, says he’ll give me $1 for every pound it grows over 400. Game on. Pam just keeps asking me how long they will take to rot.
If you could look into my house you would see that I’m doing well.
But if you look closer, there is one room in my virtual house, that is quiet. In this room I am constantly crying and the grief is just too much. This blog opens the door to that room and I’m just plan scared. I just can’t believe it.
I believe in the gospel. I believe that I need to open up this room to the gospel and let Jesus heal me. But I’m just having such a hard time even getting the courage to speak. It’s much easier to grow massive pumpkins.
For any of my close friends who are following this, thank you so much. It means the world to me that you would try and follow. There is so much more I want to post. I just need to find the courage.
Also understand that I will also be posting on the status of my pumpkins as well. I think a little “how are the pumpkins doing” section might help to soften things a little. Feel free to try and grow some of your own as well. America could always use one more giant pumkin.
John,
I’m listening. I’m waiting outside that room with you. Inside, that Aslan-one sits, watching for you. He is even there. Especially there.
Ellie planted her own pumpkin this fall that is taking over our backyard. The race IS on.
L,
Court
Game on then. Problem is, mine aren’t growing yet.
I just read this last night:
“God whispers in our pleasures, but shouts in our pain.” C.S. Lewis
“Before leaving the airport, earlier that day, a young New Yorker named Glenn Chambers hurriedly scribbled a note on a piece of paper he found on the floor of the terminal. The scrap was part of a printed advertisement with the single word “WHY” sprawled across the center.
Needing stationery in a hurry, Chambers scrawled a note to his mother around the word in the middle. Quickly folding this last-minute thought, he stuffed it in an envelope and dropped it in a box. There would be more to come, of course. More about the budding lifelong dream to begin a ministry with the “Voice of the Andes” in Ecuador. But there was no more to come. Between the mailing and the delivery of Chambers’ note, the Aviancfa Airline flight bound for Ecuador flamed crazily down the mountainside into a deep ravine. The envelope arrived later than the news of his death. When his mother received it, the question burned up at her from the page –WHY?”
John we all hurt as we pass that quiet litte room…Some day Jesus will call Ben’s name…and he too will rise:-) This is our hope…and our hope will not disappoint us.
Thanks for posting this Mom. I forgot about that Lewis quote… Not sure what it means yet. “why” Yeah, I like that. I love it that Jesus let’s us question Him and wrestle with him.
I’m still reading…and weeping.
grace & peace ~ dee
[and good luck growing those gianormous pumpkins!]
My giant pumpkins started to grow two days ago.
Thanks for reading Dee… it means a lot. I’m overwhelmed with how many people love Pam and I. It’s just amazing.
Thank you so much for posting babe. I know it’s so hard to enter that room. It means so much to me that you’re willing to do so and I know that this blog will be a great tool to help us remember. I see us using this blog to help our future little ones understand this chapter of our life, to understand that they have a big brother that they will meet one day. And I see us being able to use this with other parents who will experience a similar loss one day.
And lastly…
GROW PUMPKINS GROW!
May they take over our backyard!
I Love You!
Oh my gosh, Babe, you are the greatest. I think this post just made my heat explode. You’re right: I can see our kids reading this someday. And we do have to document because we will forget so much as time goes on. Now is the time to get it down.
It’s amazing to think that what we write here can actually help other people and give hope. So much of what I’m writing feels so hopeless. There is so much to believe and it takes so much courage.
I can’t wait for our pumpkins to grow.
Hey John,
The pumpkin on that seed packet is HUGE! I can’t imagine how long it would take to carve that thing & get the seeds out. Forget the knife, you’d have to use a chain saw. I’m looking forward to seeing your giant pumpkin!
Anyway, it was so good to hear from you again. Thank you for sharing this part of your story with us so we can remember & never forget your son, Ben. I’m looking forward to meeting him in Heaven.
Love ya,
Tom
Chain saw it is! I’m growing three of them now. No pictures to post yet though.
You don’t know me John and Pam, but I’ve been shown your blog through deAnn. I just want to write that you words are beautiful and real. They touch my heart. I can identify with some of your grief. Not only have I miscarried a few years back, but I just lost my sis-in-law in a motorcycle accident on April 25th of this year. My heart breaks reading this because my grief is so fresh and because you describe so well some of the things that I’m feeling. Keep writing, it’s helping more than you know.
Emily
Emily,
Wow. Thanks for your reply. I can’t wait for my wife to read it. I’m sorry for your loss. We just read in a book last night that when someone dies we exchange a dream for a nightmare. It’s so true. Just two days ago my best friend and his wife just delivered their healthy baby boy. We got pregnant together just a few months apart: it’s just that their baby is alive and healthy and ours is gone. When he called to rejoice there was and is a tension with both of us. He knows our grief is fresh and real, yet his personal joy is fresh and real. I hung up the phone feeling so excited for him, and miserable for us. Then it hit me: we lost our son not even 4 months ago. It’s ok to be sad. It’s ok to feel this crappy tension. People where I work were so sympathetic to me when this first happened, but 3 months later they’ve moved on and barely remember what I’m trying to forget. Thank you for sharing your nightmare with us too. It’s so hard to believe in Jesus and things we can’t see at times. I just don’t think any of can walk through this alone.