Laying Our Son to Rest

God, in His mercy, numbed my feelings and emotions for the first few weeks in the shock of my middle son's unexpected death. Outwardly, it looked as if I wasn't grieving. Inwardly, disbelief reverberated. Now that the funeral is over, my emotions are coming to the surface more. But, the time leading up to the funeral was so busy, we hardly had time to think or emote. 

We were blessed by countless people who came forward to love and support us in this trial. I kept wishing Trevor could see all the expressions of love and appreciation others felt for him and for us, through him. My friend, Heidi, told me she's convinced he does know. She wrote, "After my mom died, I had a vision/visitation of her sitting next to me and telling me that the pain she went through was gone and that ALL was known - she was SO happy! I believe ALL is now known to Trevor, including the love people have expressed during the last week and the love and support you and family gave during his life." This was such a comforting thought to share!

The day after Trevor's death, our oldest son, Bryce, flew from Dallas to be with us. What a comfort and blessing his presence brought! Somehow, it made the grief more bearable. Plus, he was invaluable to us. He set to work on a photo slideshow to put up on the funeral home's obituary page. He scoured my phone and my computer for images. He must have asked John, as well, because he used an impressive photo of Trevor's bodybuilding physique (some wondered if it was AI).

I'm sure Bryce emphasized photos from his earlier years, happy years before the drug associations and drug use. He was our exuberant little boy, and we have many fond memories of those carefree days. It was a big help and huge blessing to have Bryce handle that important piece. He was also helpful during the necessary meetings. When we met with the funeral director, Bryce took notes. He compiled and sent us a file of things to do (it all would have disappeared from my consciousness quickly). He accompanied us to select and purchase a gravesite (near his grandmother's headstone). He, again, took notes throughout our meeting with the pastor, as we arranged the funeral service songs and order.

God brought me to the wonderful songs that we used for his service. I came across "Approach, My Soul," by John Newton, in the Sing Hymnal I received for Mother's Day. We printed this inside the memory folder passed out to those in attendance. The words emphasize our desperate need of God's salvation and His gift of eternal life: "Bowed down beneath a load of sin, by Satan sorely pressed, by wars without and fears within, I come to Thee for rest... guilty sinners such as I might plead Thy gracious name!"

We used "It is Well," by Horatio Spafford, to signal the start of the service. This hymn was written in great grief after the unexpected deaths of his four daughters in a shipwreck. Crossing the exact site of their drowning, Spafford penned words to affirm his deep trust in God amid inexplicable loss. For the condensed slideshow, we selected Casting Crowns' song, "Scars in Heaven." The lyrics gutted me: "If I had only known the last time would be the last time." "What I'd give for one more day with you." "I know you're in a place where all your wounds have been erased, and knowing yours are healed is healing mine."

"He Will Hold Me Fast" was supposed to play after the family reflections, but it came after the eulogy. I love these lyrics, as well: "When the tempter would prevail, He will hold me fast. I could never keep my hold through life's fearful path, for my love is often cold. He must hold me fast... He'll not let my soul be lost, his promises shall last. Bought by Him at such great cost, He will hold me fast." What a beautiful arrangement by Kristyn and Keith Getty! What a solid proclamation of God's unending grace!

I doubt people really took in the lyrics to the departing song, "Christ is Mine Forevermore." This was another one found in The Sing Hymnal with poignant lyrics: "Mine are days that God has numbered. I was made to walk with Him; yet, I look for worldly treasure and forsake the King of Kings... Christ has paid for every failing, I am His forevermore... Mine are tears in times of sorrow, darkness not yet understood. Through the valley I must travel where I see no earthly good... I know my pain will not be wasted."

My sister-in-law, Miriam, was a great help for the family fellowship prior to the funeral. As I said, I'm not a gifted hostess. I don't easily whip up meals on command, even on a normal day, let alone a stressful one. After Miriam arrived and set out a spread of desserts and drinks, she agreed to look over my outfit choices. We ended up running back to Kohl's to exchange a top for a smaller size (I tend to seek very roomy clothes). I so appreciated her time and attention to these needs.

The time together in our home with family was beneficial and comforting. We talked about old times and memories of Trevor. Thankfully, Bryce and Elizabeth ran to get a large quantity of Chik-fil-A, so meal needs were met and I was able to set out the spread of veggies and snacks I had purchased for the gathering. On one end of our table, all the engineers talked engineering and the other end rehashed stories and spoke of my youngest brother's architectural projects. Many family members did not arrive until late the night before the funeral and my brother Mark's family drove up from Kentucky for the day. We had family come in from many other corners: Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Texas.

Blogger that I am, I wanted photos, but knew I'd be preoccupied and unable. My sister agreed to help. I'm sure it was uncomfortable trying to snap images in a room of grieving guests. She did an outstanding job, as evidenced by the photos accompanying this funeral recap post.

The hardest part was viewing his empty body. Trevor, of course, did not look like Trevor. He was not there. It was a vessel devoid of his spark and spirit. I could not have captured an image of his body. Dawn delicately snapped this shot:

We said our good-byes and let the grief wash over us. I told him, "I wanted more time!" Then, we allowed his girlfriend time to say her good-byes. 

Next, came a blur of greeting people who attended the visitation. A member of my BSF group came by briefly to bring flowers and give a hug. Five of our friends drove all the way from Champaign-Urbana, IL. My college best friend, Anne, came all the way from Lombard, IL. I was sad that I only snagged a few moments with her as the press of people kept coming. Both Bryce's and Sean's friends came. Trevor had probably 7 or 8 friends from middle and high school years who came. A few of the girls in that group were kind enough to come express condolences. 

Trevor's 2nd grade teacher came up to tell me how sad she was because he had shown such great potential. Many individuals came from Pittsboro Baptist Church. Here are some images of family members who came:

I was blown away by Trevor's halfway house leader, Damien, who took an Uber all the way from Indianapolis to our little rural enclave. He had only known Trevor for less than two weeks (and knowing Trevor, he probably hadn't interacted much). We gave Damien a ride to the burial and learned that he, too, (like my husband) is from Champaign-Urbana.

Thanks to the funeral director's wife, you can view a video of the funeral here. After the condensed slideshow and a welcome, John's sister Martha read John's comments and shared some of her own memories of Trevor. I wasn't sure I'd make it through mine, but the humorous bits helped me stay composed.

The burial was a brief affair (good, since it was 95 degrees out) with prayer and committal. 

Then, Pittsboro Baptist Church provided a marvelous meal for family and friends. After the meal, my sister and brother-in-law treated many family members and Damien to ice cream at the local Dairy Bar. 

We got Damien into an Uber back to the halfway house and many descended back into our home for further fellowship. I relished time with Trevor's cousins. Now, the grief is truly descending and intensifying. 

Some may question my son's walk with God, because he used drugs. One even shared a prayer, "What joy it will be IF we get to heaven and discover Trevor is there.... We pray that Trevor in some way... [had] things straight with You [God] before this terrible occasion." I know my son's spiritual foundation was not built on what he did, but on what Christ did for him. I liken it to my mother's Alzheimer's. She raged and cursed. That was not my mother; it was her diseased brain. Drugs had altered Trevor's brain, rewiring to tell him drugs were his best solution to his pain. He responded physiologically, not spiritually. 

Every day, I wake with the realization that my son is no longer with us here on earth. I take comfort, because of his trust in Christ's atoning act on the cross, and believe we will be reunited one day in Heaven. Others may scoff and weep for his lost soul; I claim the atoning cross of Christ and His promise of eternal life. If you have not trusted in Christ, consider the gospel message (proclaimed in Trevor's funeral) and accept the free gift of eternal life. May Trevor, in death, reach more than we had hoped and prayed in life.

Book Review: His Redeeming Love

This is actually my second time reading through His Redeeming Love by Jonathan Edwards. The first time, I wasn't cataloguing my extra devotional reading. This year, I started writing reviews for those extra books I consume during my morning devotions (most from my own shelves). The book is part of the Life Messages of Great Christians series, published by Servant Publications. I loved how the acknowledgements highlighted the names of individuals who prayed for the compilation process. How cool is that?

The introduction to His Redeeming Love acknowledges that Edwards famously preached about sin and hell. However, it highlights his main message: "Though we sin and deserve divine retribution, God has provided a way of rescue through His Son, Jesus Christ. If we accept God's free gift of salvation [emphasis mine], we not only escape punishment, we receive everlasting life in heaven." Each day's reading provides a thought for the day, a passage of scripture, and insights from Edwards, as gleaned from his books or sermons. This is followed by questions to consider and a prayer to offer.

I felt especially convicted on Day 18, "Blessed are the Meek." Edwards speaks of the person who feels the injuries of others intensely (a struggle for me). To this, he asks several questions. "[Are] the injuries you have received from others... more than you have inflicted on God?... Do you not hope that God will continue to bear with you in your shortcomings as He has in the past, and that in spite of everything, He will exercise toward you His infinite love and favor?" Finally, he asks, of course, if God can be long-suffering, why can't you? I admit I struggle. I want to do better, but often revert to protecting myself rather than enduring.

The final section of the book (and the part I remembered most) lists Jonathan Edwards' 70 resolutions. Many of them feel redundant, simply worded in similar ways. But, they are excellent goals. Resolve to live with all might, as if it was your last hour. When you see sin in others, recognize it in yourself and repent. Never speak ill of others in a dishonoring way, only for their good. Study God's Word. Make peace. Be honest. Make nightly, weekly, monthly, and yearly reflections. Live to have no regrets. Imitate what is praiseworthy. Here's one I need: Instead of fearing misfortunes, focus only on duty, reviewing the benefits of your previous afflictions. Speak benevolently and cheerfully. I would love to have the passion and devotion of the great revivalists Jonathan Edwards or George Whitefield.

Book Review: Now and Forever

I tend to avoid science fiction books. Indeed, I'm pretty sure I picked this up on a 30-second jaunt into the library to find an audio book for car rides. Ray Bradbury comes at the start of the alphabet. Thus, I attempted this short book, Now and Forever, containing two novellas. While it did kill time for me, it wasn't as entertaining or as thought-provoking as Fahrenheit 451, by any means.

I enjoyed the first novella, "Somewhere a Band is Playing." This story, of a man compelled to jump off a train to explore a strange town, held a certain amount of intrigue. However, I soured on the second novella, "Leviathan '99," a science-fiction version of Moby Dick. In my younger years, I found Melville's Moby Dick tiresome. This one was even more so. It was not "spellbinding," nor was I "entranced," as the back cover promised. Oh, well, sometimes you venture into foreign territory to a pleasant surprise. Other times, you realize you should stick to what interests you.

Book Review: Pocket Bear

I was knee-deep in viewing war scenes in Masterpiece Theater's All Creatures Great & Small, when I came across this book by Katherine Applegate (author of Crenshaw and The One and Only Ivan). Pocket Bear tells the story of a small bear created as a lucky token for a soldier to take into battle. Pocket bears were made with upturned eyes, so that it appeared they were looking up at, and out for, their owners. I had never heard of these bears, nor did I know the history of the teddy bear.

Most toys at the Second Chances for the Tossed and Treasured are rescued by the sneaky, theiving cat, Zephyrina. They receive care from a Ukranian mother-daughter team intent on placing the stuffed animals back into loving hands. Of course, Picky Vicky hovers on the horizon, hoping to snatch any that might be worth a fair price. She will go to any lengths to get her hands on the valuable ones. Can the toys and the cat work together to get the bears where they belong? I'm sure this book has been selected for read-alouds in classroom settings. I abandoned The One and Only Ivan, yet stuck it out through this book. While the information about bears was interesting, it was still not my favorite.

Mid-month Mention: Hospitality and Building Community

I do not have the spiritual gift of hospitality. For several years, we invited my parents and sibling families to our spacious home just after Christmas. While I enjoyed the opportunity to see them all, the stress of making arrangements and meals always shattered me. One year, my sister attempted to alleviate that stress by insisting on making a huge meal of roast beef and yorkshire pudding. That year was even more stressful. I much preferred when we settled on an order from Papa Johns (although, one year, they assumed our large order of 8 or 9 pizzas was a prank call and we had to wait there while they actually filled the order).

Having said that, the Lord has been nudging me in this area. Not only did He direct me to my verse for the year (2 Corinthians 2:14: "Thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him."), but he is convicting me through others I'm encountering. I somehow stumbled upon a new-to-me author, Sue Donaldson, author of  Never Alone: The Power of Invitation and the Grace of Belonging in an Isolated World. I received a newsletter with a description of one of her "Wine Nights." It sounds amazing! She invites women into her home and stimulates conversation with great ice-breaker questions. You can purchase her question ideas in her book, Say Something Special: 252 Conversation Starters, The Ultimate Guide to Stimulating Table Talk. I hope to get a chance to read those books soon.

In the meantime, while I continue to pray for God's guidance on how He may be asking me to step out in faith, I keep discovering more encouragement. I recently followed a Rabbit Room substack article to a video lecture by Andy Patton (The Darkling Psalter). Patton's lecture, "The Lost Art of Community," is not only full of book recommendations and summaries, but also inspires hosptality and community building. I went in thinking I would skim the 28-minute lecture, but was riveted through the whole thing. He offers excellent analogies to flesh out his main points. He talks about subverting modernity, creating space with common agreement, accepting imposition for the sake of community, and the importance of propinquity (when circles of life overlap).

I am not at the point where I can foster a new community (many distractions of the unstable life with an addict), but I took note of his recommendations: 1) Start small, and 2) Gather around something. In brainstorming groups I would love to initiate, I think of several categories. The first obvious one is a desire to gather around books - perhaps start a new book club. The second, similar, is a desire to gather with other Christian writers - perhaps start a writer's group. The third, more practical and desperately needed on my end, gather with non-judgmental parents walking the difficult road with a wayward child. I realize all these categories already have groups in existence near me. However, that doesn't negate that niggle from the Lord. It may still be in developing stages within me. I may be too busy with the monumental task of preparing to downsize into a smaller residence. For now, I spend time in prayer and seek His wisdom and guidance.

If you're lonely and aching for stronger connections, if you're interested in building community, why not take a moment to explore Sue Donaldson's books or Andy Patton's lecture. They are sure to light a fire under any desires or convictions you might entertain. Who knows, this might be a tangible way to follow that verse from 2nd Corinthians. Every day, I pray to be a fragrance of the knowledge of Him. Maybe soon, he'll have me put feet and hands to the words.

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I wrote this post prior to our son's death. God has a sense of humor. He forced me to put feet and hands to words (although, I don't think anyone really expected much out of me - it is not like they were wanting me to stress about feeding all the relatives coming for the funeral, but even just making my home - so often in disarray - available for visiting is stressful to me). And, I suppose, he is giving me more time to focus on discerning where I could live out the verse in 2nd Corinthians.

Book Review: It's a God Thing!

Inside the front cover of my copy of It's a God Thing!, I found a notation stating I won this book at the 2001 Write-to-Publish Conference. I know I read the book back then. Still on my bookshelf, I picked it up again to supplement my daily devotional reading. What an inspiring book for anyone who wishes to spread the fragrance of the knowledge of Christ! (2 Cor. 2:14) That sounds like Larry Baker's theme verse.

I started to explain that Larry runs a salon and cuts hair in Fort Collins, Colorado. Then, I decided to Google him. Oh, my! What sad news! Last June, Larry went missing and his body was found in Watson Lake. I found a You Tube video of a news clip highlighting how dear and personable Larry had been. How wonderful that his message still resonates through his book, It's a God Thing!: Inspiring Stories of Life-Changing Friendships.

Larry used his fun and friendly personality to woo and win others to Christ. He greeted others and became a true friend to them. He did not immediately pressure them by sharing the gospel, but waited until they asked him the source of his joy and peace. Even then, he walked gently into the question, offering to give them only as much explanation as they wanted. The stories Larry shares in his book prove that being a friend is the thing of first importance. Whether connecting with addicts or jet-setters, Larry offered a hand of friendship and a heart for God. Without building a bridge, you cannot meet on the same side. I really enjoyed this book and recommend it to anyone wanting inspiration for forming relationships that effectively change lives through the knowledge of Christ.

Losing Our Precious Son

Parenting a wayward child is an exhausting and distressing role. We have gone back and forth trying to determine what is the best way to respond and help our addicted son, Trevor. I will admit, we have not always been in agreement. Much of this stems from my husband's personal experience with an addicted sibling who took his life. I think he was desperate to come to a different conclusion with his son.

From day one, Trevor was very much like his Uncle Rob. He did things with vehemence. Most recently, his driven, give-it-all mentality zeroed in on his bodybuilding. Here is a photo of him flexing:

Unfortunately, he relapsed at the end of May. At 2 a.m., there was no way to take him to a treatment center, so we took him to the ER. They would only release him into a residential treatment center (good for them!) At first, still under the influence of the drugs, he refused to stay for the 28-day treatment. He wanted to leave after the initial 7-day detox period. My husband wanted to let him come back home. In my opinion, that would only enable him to go back to using (our home is where this all began). I began to pray importunately for God to change their minds. Praise God! My husband told him he couldn't come home and Trevor decided he would stick out the program.

Of course, he had to detox from everything (including the Retitrutide weight loss drugs he was injecting and the steroids he was taking to enhance his bodybuilding). He said they had snacks available everywhere and he had to get some dopamine somehow, so he ate himself into a 60-pound weight gain. The relapse was a crushing blow! The loss of his intentions to participate in a bodybuilding competition in August was a devastating blow! From there, things continued to spiral.

He moved from the treatment center into a halfway house in Indianapolis. We knew this wasn't the best plan (after all, he knew where to access drugs in Indy), but he wasn't moving home, either. He was living in Indy, working at a Steak 'n Shake in Brownsburg, and visiting his girlfriend in Kirklin. Many miles driven at a time when gas prices are high. He couldn't even break even.

Then came some relationship difficulties. I think his girlfriend had made it very clear to him that she was clean and she would not remain with someone who uses. The friction and pain escalated. He responded in very unhealthy ways. When he posted something on Instagram saying, "Hope you all enjoyed the sh!t show," we were terrified he intended to find drugs.

Then, on July 3rd, he was coming to our home to pick up some food. He said he was crying and couldn't see clearly. He plowed into the front end of another vehicle that had turned into a subdivision just in front of him. His car was totaled and he knew we had vowed not to replace it (we'd already helped him purchase 3 vehicles). I'm sure his mind was reeling. No car. No way to get from Indy to his job or to visit his girlfriend. Not to mention, the possibility that the other driver might sue him for his fault in the accident. He was suicidal. He did not want to live. I took him in my arms and he just sobbed. We prayed with him. He agreed to go to a psych hospital as soon as his girlfriend could take him after she finished work. While waiting, he called and learned the commitment time was 7-14 days. He decided he didn't want to lose his bed, his job, or his upcoming court date, so he found an outpatient psych therapy that he could do in the halfway house from his phone.

On July 4th, he posted photos of himself at a party holding a beer can. His younger brother tried to tell him these decisions were unwise. On July 5th, I drove to his halfway house to take him to work. I bought him a pizza because his house meeting had gone long and he'd had no dinner. That's the last time I saw my beloved boy.

On July 6th, he took an Uber to work. While at work, he kept going to the bathroom. Finally, he went to the bathroom and did not come out. A coworker knew Sean's phone number because Sean used to work there. She called to tell him there was an incident with Trevor and they needed a family member there immediately. After my husband headed to the restaurant, the coworker called back. Sean said he knew it was bad when she couldn't talk. He then came in to gently wake me and share that "there was an incident at the Steak 'n Shake, and he's gone." I shot up. My initial thought was I wanted to see him and hold him one more time. I didn't think I could drive, so Sean drove me over. They would not let me near his body. We were there until midnight speaking with detectives, officers, and the coroner.

This week has been a whirlwind of planning and details. It feels like every minute I have something else to think about or address. I'm holding together fine (probably helped by the antidepressant medication I'm on), but my husband is grieving intensely. I'm glad Trevor is no longer in the intense emotional pain he was carrying. I'm glad he no longer has to struggle and fight this demon.

If you want to view his obituary, a photo slideshow, and a remembrance journal, you can follow this link. We also set up a Trevor Hill Addiction Memorial Fund. Now begins the dreadful process of learning to live without him. After picking our oldest son, Bryce, up from the airport, we stopped to get Chinese carry-out. As I went in to pick up the food, I realized we will never be able to eat inside that restaurant again. Trevor loved to eat there and ate with gusto. Then, on Thursday, I finally managed to get in a walk. I used to always spend most of my walks praying about Trevor. That was a crushing moment.

Please pray for our family as we walk this difficult road. Even though I had irrationally wanted to see him on the night of his death, I know that the most difficult moment will be when we come for the visitation and see him laid out, a shell of the person he once was, devoid of his spark. I have asked to speak a few words. I am praying I am not incapacitated with grief. Pray we will hold up as they lower his body into the ground, in a finality that cannot be erased. We are heart-sick and deeply saddened by the loss of our precious son.