15 Years, and I'm Faithfully Grieving

A few months ago, I started seeing a biblical counselor to help me work through difficult health crises I’ve had the past seven years. Actually, my first appointment was on November 22. We have discovered that there are a lot more connections to my brother’s death than just that date. I am still deeply grieving.

In 2019, I was visiting my parents in Austin when my mom and I heard a sermon at their church, All Saints, about Defiant Mourning. In it Pastor Tim expounded on this verse in Matthew 2:18:

“A voice was heard in Ramah,
    weeping and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
    she refused to be comforted, because they are no more.”

Rachel, and the Israelite parents she represents, were righteous in their refusal to give up their grief. When we mourn death, we are proclaiming the Gospel of Christ by declaring that things are not supposed to be this way. And things won’t be this way forever. In our heartache, we long for the day when all things will be made right.

“Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

And He who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.”

- Revelation 21:3-5 (my favorite Bible verses)

I miss my brother immensely. My heart aches to be with him again. I long for my children to know their unique Uncle Marshall. I wish he were here walking in this life with me. I pine for the day when either he comes on the clouds in the Lord’s Army with Christ's return, or I am reunited with him in heaven at my own death.

A good name is better than precious ointment,
    and the day of death than the day of birth.
2 It is better to go to the house of mourning
    than to go to the house of feasting,
for this is the end of all mankind,
    and the living will lay it to heart.
3 Sorrow is better than laughter,
    for by sadness of face the heart is made glad.
4 The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
    but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.

-  Ecclesiastes 7:1-4

Several well-meaning people have suggested that we “get over it.” “It’s been so long,“ they say, “it’s time for you to move on.” Oh dear no. I will not move on. I refuse to stop grieving my brother’s death. For those who love much, mourn much. Moving on means trying to forget. It means pretending it’s ok that he died. That these things just happen. No! These things are not supposed to happen. And someday they WON’T.

Jesus wept. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

-John 11:35-36

Even Jesus, who was literally about to undo death in a few minutes, deeply grieved the death of Lazarus. We lament even with the resurrection in view. We will never stop remembering Marshall. We will hold all our memories dearly, close to our hearts, and intentionally and regularly remind ourselves of our separation with him.

In these 15 years, God has not forgotten us either. No, He has shown us in big and small ways that He cares. He listens. He hears. He not only knows our grief, but it is honoring to Him. I will recount just a few of these many miraculous “Marshall gifts” He has blessed us with.

About six years ago, there was a family in our homeschool community (Classical Conversations) who had a younger brother named Marshall. He stayed home for the first few weeks, but on the first day when he walked into the room for morning assembly with his mom, he was wearing a moose shirt. Tears streamed down my face. Moose are special to my family. They were Marshall’s symbol. The story goes that when Marshall was born, my dad thought he looked “as big as a moose” compared to when his two older sisters were born. And so the nickname stuck.

We had a family lawn business called Moose Mowers. Marshall and I spent countless hours mowing lawns together, often in the 100° heat. The deal was he would do all the trimming (the harder job since the trimmer was so heavy for our slim teenage frames) and I would do the mowing - and all the talking to customers. Sometimes we would stand on the sidewalk rehearsing what to say before I could gain the courage to knock on the door to collect our payment. I was shy, but Marshall was reticent.

Marshall mowing the Way Back

My second child, my firstborn son, was born the day before Marshall’s spiritual birthday (which we celebrated on his half-birthday). We gave him the middle name Marshall. He loves to build with his hands and figure things out, just like his Uncle Marshall.

Our oldest son loves Legos like his namesake

My husband had a grandfather also named Marshall, so we get to honor both sides of the family with our son’s name.

Grandpa Marshall with our daughter

Two houses down we have a neighbor named Marshall. He's a big DIYer and is always out in his garage working on some project. Across the street moved in a man named Mason.

In 2020, my youngest brother had a son on Marshall’s birthday. Completely spontaneous, natural birth. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. Here he is on his first birthday.

Happy Birthday to you both!

I look forward to many more sweet Marshall gifts from the Lord as I walk through this life with Him. And I will be righteously grieving, full of hope, full of faith, until my faith will be made sight.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

- Heidi