“Mendelt, I hope you are having a good day and you aren’t sad”.
This was a message I received from someone.
I know what they meant.
But is sad so bad? I walked down the grocery store and saw something that triggered a Marisa memory. Then I was sad. Deeply sad. I felt like weeping. In the juice aisle.
Hey cashier, don’t you know Marisa is dead?
I walked outside. I remembered Marisa.
Hey stranger, don’t you know that cancer sucked her body of life?
I went home. I saw my neighbours talking. I remembered Marisa.
Hey neighbour, do you know that we put her in a box and buried her in the ground?
I felt like putting on sackcloth and ashes, weeping and gnashing my teeth.
So why don’t I?
I remembered images of people in other countries. They walk down main street hand in hand, crying, weeping, singing, chanting. Are they honouring their grief?
It is clear that I am looking for something that this world will not provide.
Hey Jesus, why does your return seem to take so
excruciatingly long?
MdH
Life 
39 comments
Comments feed for this article
March 3, 2008 at 4:34 pm
Chris & Liza Davis
My sister died in a car accident when she was 18 and I remember my mom going through these same emotions. Life continues all around and she wanted to just cry out at times, “My daughter has died!”. The journey of missing the ones we love….ups, downs, twists, turns. We continue to lift you and your kids up to our Father. May we in this day and time know the return of the King.
March 3, 2008 at 5:07 pm
Julia van Staalduinen
Hey Mendelt, do you know that we love you and wish every day that we could shoulder your grief?
Praying for Christ’s return and peace until that day comes.
Peace and love, dear friend.
March 3, 2008 at 5:44 pm
Cheryl Tigchelaar
Mendelt,
Be very sad.
As Protestants, I often think it unfortunate that we no longer confess. I think we did away with too much on that front when we split from Rome. As North American Protestants, I also think it unfortunate that we prefer our grieving to be neatly contained, and mostly out of sight. We’ve lost the skill of being with others who mourn, so we want them to stop mourning, for our own sakes.
To everything there is a season, and you know what season you’re living in.
Cheryl Tigchelaar
March 3, 2008 at 7:46 pm
Kevin
I read these words and thought of you. I feel it impressed on my heart to share them. If they do nothing but make you feel like telling me off I am even fine with that. I thought it echoes your grieving post…
“A Grace Disguised” book by Jerry Sittser
“My loss made God seem terrifying and inscrutable. For a long time I saw his sovereignty as a towing cliff in winter – icy, cold and windswept….. It loomed over me, completely oblivious to my presence and pain…. I yelled at God to acknoledge my suffering and to take responsibility for it, but all I heard was the lonely echo of my own voice.”
When he finally made his peace with God’s sovereignty there came another quote….. but this is a post about grieving and we do grieve with you.
March 3, 2008 at 8:58 pm
Ann @ Holy Experience
Listening, MdH.
Deeply listening… with the cochlear of my soul.
Keep speaking it.
(And the pictures in the header? You are all …Shining stars…)
March 3, 2008 at 9:04 pm
Susanne
Mendelt,
We are here, listening.
We are here, praying.
We are here, often with tears in our eyes, reading as life unfolds without Marisa.
We cannot imagine the depth of your grief.
We send our love.
Susanne and family.
March 3, 2008 at 9:42 pm
Delaney J
Keep on sharing your heart. We want to be able to fix things for people, make them feel better, but we can’t. Here’s another quote, same book (Shattered Dreams by Larry Crabb):
“It makes no sense to say that someone on the secular journey is feeling terrible but doing great. But on the spiritual journey there are seasons when doing great requires that we feel awful…Those on the spiritual journey believe that…their primary purpose is neither to enjoy this life nor the people they meet, nor themselves; it is rather to enjoy God…The person on the secular journey is doing well when he gets over a tough patch and stops crying so much, when he regains hope that life offers many pleasures and learns to manage its challenges well…The Spirit’s masterpiece is the man or woman who much prefers to live elsewhere, who finds no deep joy in the good things of this life, who looks closely in the mirror and yearns to see something different, whose highest dream is to be in the Presence of the grace-filled Father. It is the person whose life ‘here’ is consumed with preparing to meet Him ‘there’.” May that be our focus.
March 3, 2008 at 10:15 pm
JT
** post if you feel so inclined***
When I see you Mendelt….I’m sad….because I get to see you and Marisa doesn’t………When I’m babysitting your kids and playing tag and goofing around ….i’m sad ……..because I realize yet again that Marisa isn’t here to do that. I’m sad that Marisa had cancer. I’m sad when I think of your evenings and nights and how lonely they must be. I’m sad that I don’t really know what to say when I see you. I’m sad when I read post like this and am reminded of your unimaginable grief.
I try to sometimes put myself in your shoes to imagine what it would be like if I lost my spouse……and really its just to painful to imagine. That makes me sad. So in no way am I saying my sadness compares to yours, or that I understand your grief……because I don’t understand. I know “moving on” is the thing that you have to do….you have 3 kids to raise……but how difficult that must be.
Prayer Prayer Prayer……I have no idea how people would get through death without knowing that there is LIFE …..and how people would get through healing after loosing someone if they didn’t have FAITH.
Mendelt,
Praying that our Father Lord Jeus would surround and cradle you in His Almighty arms of love and comfort at this time. ( I love picturing myself being cradled by Him….there is no greater comfort)
Come Lord Jesus…..Come…..
ps. Don’t get me wrong I am HAPPY to see you and LOVE watching your kids! But you know what I mean….right…..
March 4, 2008 at 12:58 am
Jodi Maude
Mendelt
I will not tell you that the pain goes away. I will not tell you that it gets less painful with time. The pain changes and we change. The love and the memories will always be there, as will the pain and the loss.
Your faith is strong and God will comfort you and through Him you find your way to go on.
Faith and Love.
Jodi
March 4, 2008 at 2:50 am
Lyric
May you find, use, and discover all the time and all the ways that will help express your grief. The depth of the grief speaks of the depth of your love. Don’t let the world’s need for you to “get on with life” burden or distress you. Grieving is a process, unique in so many ways and certainly not a process with a linear timetable. Steps forward, moments of movement backward…but all the steps are walked with Him. Each tear is honored by Him…He saves them. We should do nothing less than honor them as well.
You and yours remain in my prayers.
March 4, 2008 at 9:45 am
AB
“There is a time to mourn…” writes the ancient sage.
…mourning with you, brother.
March 4, 2008 at 10:52 am
Christine
Dear Mendelt,
You know the Servant Song? “I will weep when you are weeping……” In the past it has seemed so noble to sing that…I mean what a good Christian I would be if I walked alongside someone in their time of grief…and I wish now that I could, but (huge big bbuutt) I do not know the deep grief that you are experiencing. So, I will do the only thing that I can…I’ll (we’ll) keep praying for you and your kids.
Shalom,
Christine
March 4, 2008 at 1:55 pm
Selah Robb
Hi. It’s ok to be sad. I was thinking of you and Marisa and your kids Saturday when I got my head shaved. I was sad then too. If God didn’t want us to be sad he wouldn’t have created us with the ability to have that emotion. Take joy in your memories of her even as you feel sad. Yes it’s possible to feel both at the same time.
Hugs from Cyberspace
Selah
March 4, 2008 at 3:22 pm
Robyn Bezuyen
Terry’s Oma died in December. We took our girls to the funeral and burial. A couple of weeks ago my four year old was crying in bed. “What’s wrong Kenz?” I asked. “I miss great-oma.” “Oh, and is that why you are sad?” “Yes, mom. I wish that she could come back so that I could hug her and push her wheel chair.” she said through her tears. “It is very sad that Oma died, but you know that she is with Jesus now, right?” “Yes mom but I still wish that she could come back just for a little while.” (still many tears fell) “Well, it is hard for us still here but she is up and dancing for Jesus right now, doesn’t that sound nice?” she has a teary smile at this since she only knew her in a wheel chair. “Heaven is good mom but I still miss her…Mom, is it a school day tomorrow?”
Oh how simple it is to make that wish. Wishing for the unrealistic is not a very grown up thing to do, but maybe it should be? My daughter was just sad. That is all, just sad that Oma was not here anymore. It is sad. It will continue to be sad and I hope that I will continue to let those around me to “just be sad” sometimes when they need it. Of course she seemed to realize that she could be sad tonight, but in the morning was something to look forward to – school!(Thanks Mrs Thiessen)
Mendelt, I pray that the sad days/hours/minutes get less and that the happy memories fill up those empty spaces with smiles.
Your sister in Christ
Robyn Bezuyen
March 4, 2008 at 4:04 pm
j&j
i hope today you are sad, you are angry, you are frustrated..
i hope today you ask questions..
i hope today you miss Marisa..
i hope today that you grieve Marisa.
i also hope today you smile..
i hope today you laugh with your kids..
i hope today you play with your kids..
i hope today you are filled with joy thinking about the good times with Marisa..
i hope today you feel so much joy when you look at your kids..
i hope today jacoba makes you laugh..
i hope today zion smiles, at least 100 times..
i hope today zekijah kisses you at least 100 times..
i hope today you grieve..
and that you don’t ignore the grief..
but that you get through it, with God’s help.
give it all to God.
peace, and so much love*
JeR.
March 4, 2008 at 4:31 pm
Lucas, Netherlands
Jesus wept too. You’re in very good company. Weeping together doesn’t make the pain go away, but it’s shared pain at least. Beauty from ashes. It takes so much time.
March 4, 2008 at 7:32 pm
JPV
Mendelt, you don’t need permission to grieve. So many people are afraid of grief. You lost the love of your life – grieve. That’s normal and right. I think you’ve got a good point about other cultures honouring loss and grief. We pretend too much in North America that every thing’s ok when it is not. And certainly people’s eyes will glaze over when they ask “how’s everything” and you say how you really feel. Don’t let it stop you or cause you to question yourself.
You and your family are in our thoughts and prayers daily. We don’t really know what it’s like to lose that close a loved one yet we grieve for you and your children and all you have lost.
March 4, 2008 at 8:34 pm
donna
maybe we need to get more comfortable with tears…. maybe not in the juice isle per se, but i do think you should be able to cry with the ones closest to you, without them necessairly feeling the need to “make you stop”. It’s part of working out your grief…. besides that, without tears you can never experience the best emotion of all….laughter through tears. That’s the one that reminds us that in spite of our pain, there’s still hope, the best is yet to come, God’s in charge i’m not, i still trust Him, Jesus Christ is comming back, we will live with him in heaven forever, we’re not home yet.
March 4, 2008 at 9:22 pm
Mem Hoekstra
Mendelt, my dear son, we are grieving with you.
March 4, 2008 at 9:28 pm
Andrea O'Neill (Clark)
Mendelt, I am so sorry for the sadness you are feeling. I don’t know if sad is bad but unfortunately it is part of life. Thankfully it isn’t a feeling we will have to go through once we meet our maker. Then we will be able to enjoy the peace and joy that Marisa is now enjoying. Till that day comes (and like you, I pray that it comes sooner rather than later) I pray that you will have less moments of sadness and more moments of joy.
March 4, 2008 at 10:37 pm
Frances
Thanks for including photos of the children and you and Marisa as a couple at the top of this blog – it reminds us that Marisa was herself, a shining star on her own, but also a mom to three absolutely stunning and talented kids, and a fabulous wife to a fabulous husband.
I, too, wish that our society had more tangible relics of grief – like wearing black for a whole year, or a black armband, or a parade of wailing women. I know, for example, that many of us in this family still wear our pink ribbons on our coats, as part tribute to Marisa, part tribulation that she died. These are the same ribbons we all wore standing in that terrible line of condolence. Where you weren’t where you were supposed to be. Where Marisa wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Where sweet Zion, Jacoba and Zekijah were left motherless.
The grief goes on, but the prayers don’t stop.
Love you lots.
March 4, 2008 at 10:42 pm
cathyb
Sad is not so bad, Mendelt. For it means that you have loved, deeply. Fully. The deeper the love, the harder the grieving. It does not make it any better, knowing this. That much, I know. But I also know that the sadness changes, in time. It does not go away. It marks you forever. But it changes. That is all I know about this grieving thing. It’s tough, excruciating, unexplainable, and unimaginable. It bites back at you over and over again. And it doesn’t leave. But it changes. And it will change. Someday. Sometime. Not now. I am sorry to say, not soon. For you have loved deeply.
Cathyb
http://www.lessonsfromlou.blogspot.com
March 5, 2008 at 9:03 am
Sonya Eikelboom
Mendelt,
“thank you” seems weird to say, but thank you for being so “raw” with us. It gives us the opportunity to know how to pray for you. We know there is nothing to say to ease these times of intense longing and grief, so we just pray. We see those pockets of time where things “seem” lighter, and we are thankful for those moments/days where it may feel “less”. But, I guess the truth really is that the intensity fades slightly into the background, only to reappear with a vengeance, perhaps when you least expect it. All we can do from here is pray, and we do continue to do that. We just wanted to let you know that we are probably like many others, who don’t have much to say, but our hearts are still longing to serve you in some small way. So we hope that the knowledge of the prayers of your friends and family does continue to buoy your spirits in some small way.
With hands and hearts lifted to our Father, Sonya & Randall.
March 5, 2008 at 10:53 am
Annonymous
It’s been quite some time since i have been close to God, but as I sit here reading your post, as the snow is falling outside and “Word of God Speak” is suddently playing from my computer I can’t help but think of Marisa in heaven- probably catching snowflakes and being so proud of you. Again, I don’t even know you but I am very touched by your words and continue to read daily. I truly hope that your day is full of blessings and miracles that can make you smile often.
“I’m finding myself at a loss for words and the funny thing is, it’s okay. The last thing I need is to be heard, but to hear what You would say.”
March 5, 2008 at 10:57 am
R&G
Hi Mendelt! Right now I do not know what to say! But…….thanks for sharing your thoughts to us! I am so thankful that you do that! I often wonder how you are deep inside you- if that makes sense! I feel for you! I am soo sorry for all that you have gone thru and still are! What else I can say or do…….I do not know? But you are not shoved in the corner. We keep thinking,loving and praying for you and your special children! My prayer is that God help you when you are hurting and help you. You are special in everyway! Thanks for all that you do for your children and for us! God give you strength, hope, courage Mendelt!
March 5, 2008 at 11:25 am
Kimberly (Osinga) Oliver
Mendelt,
I don’t think being sad is a bad thing, at all.
I wanted to share some Marisa memories with you. I was at my parents’ home this past weekend and my mother has decided that my old bedroom needs a makeover so we were going through some of the stuff I accumulated over the years, trying to decide what to keep. I had a collection of books on my shelf and I often flipped to the inside cover to see if there was a note from who gave it to me. For three of the books it read: “To Kim O. on your 9th birthday. From Marisa V.” It brought back memories of that birthday party and all the fun we had.
When I got home that night I continued to go through some boxes and came across a report called “The Mystery Box – written by Kim Osinga with diagrams by Marisa VanderVeen.” It was our project that we did for the Science Fair (if my memory serves me correctly). I had completely forgotten about the project, but checked an old photo album, and there it was! The Mystery Box in all its glory (basically a box with mirrors in it to create a periscope). I think it even won a ribbon!
Continuing to keep you in prayer,
Kim, Matt & Ben
March 5, 2008 at 11:49 am
Paulette
Your grief is real, sad is a very good healthy emotion. There is still much work to do before Christ returns, He put us here to win souls so others may know the Joy Marisa is feeling today! I pray for you and your kids all the time. I know it is hard and unfair, and I know Marisa is gone and I hear you Mendelt.
March 5, 2008 at 2:11 pm
Julie Vos
Dear Mendelt,
Thank you for continuing to share your thoughts and your grief with us. I pray that you will feel strengthened by the words of our dear Father!
May you feel comforted by the Holy Spirit in all moments of your day whether that be inside, outside, driving, shopping, standing still, whatever you are doing! We are here for you, Mendelt! Keep writing! We love hearing from you and we want to bring your requests before God!
Love, Julie
March 5, 2008 at 4:35 pm
Linda Geerts
No, sad isn’t bad. It’s honest.
It’s like when someone prompts you: “Come on, smile!” and I could respond, “I don’t feel like it. If I felt like it I would be smiling already. Why is my smiling necessary to make/keep you happy?” How often we smile on the outside but weep on the inside.
I think if we did the sackcloth and ashes, wept and gnashed our teeth other people wouldn’t be able to hide their own grief and worry as well. Which is frightening.
I find it comforting to know that Jesus felt our emotions too. Laughter, peace, love, friendship, family, sadness, anger, disappointment and grief.
You’re finding the joy, too. Family times, building forts, tender moments, ball games…. Continuing to pray for you and yours……
March 5, 2008 at 5:24 pm
Rose Schulenberg
Hi Mendelt,
I lost my mom when I was 27. She was my best friend and her death rocked my world. Some people seem to handle the death of a loved one better than others…
Looking back on my mother’s death, I know I didn’t handle it ‘well’. My world was at a stand still and the things that were so important to people seemed so trivial to me.
But at the same time, when she died I felt close to God…and sometimes after, I was angry. People tell you over and over that faith is the only way to find comfort. And you know it is. But it’s still easier said than done. Because you miss her. And your grief is raw.
I haven’t lost my spouse, my soul-mate so I can’t compare. My mom was the only person I’ve lost who was close to me. So even though it is different, it’s still grief.
Mendalt, I am sorry you are grieving. I wish you peace.
March 5, 2008 at 5:41 pm
mendelt en willy tillema.
Dear Mendelt,
Allow yourself to be sad….
and………………………………
the pictures of the kids……
………………….are so great.
Dear greetings,
Mendelt en Willy.
March 6, 2008 at 12:09 am
christina
life is hard sometimes.
March 6, 2008 at 9:22 am
Dee
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((Mendelt))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
To grieve is human and to cry is beautiful, a beautiful expression of the impact that this sweet Marisa had non your life. Shine on Marisa Shine On!!! 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂
Love and Prayers Dee
March 6, 2008 at 12:08 pm
Veronica
Hold onto Jesus’ hand and grieve whenever and wherever you like, even the juice aisle.
praying..
March 6, 2008 at 12:33 pm
Jodi Mobach
Mendelt: I hope today is a better day than yesterday and tomorrow a better day than today. It is my prayer that the God of all comfort upholds you and the kids as your lives continue on. It almost seems impossible that life goes on when your world seems to be grinding to a halt in every way but it does, it doesn’t make it easier, or less sad, it just is what it is. Praying that today you find joy in your children and those who love you. P.S I’m not sure if my post made it on the Book. But I would love one!
Jodi
March 6, 2008 at 12:55 pm
Nancy
Just a note to let you know you are still in my prayers- often. . .
March 6, 2008 at 1:33 pm
J & S Bylsma
Dear Mendelt,
We have thought of you these past few months…often I have wanted to write a word or two of encouragement, but what do you say…many things come to mind, but I am always afraid they may the wrong things to say…a story came to mind of Job and the calamities that he endured. When his friends came to see him they sat with him in his distress for seven days and they said nothing. So, in “silence” we pray for you and your children, that our heavenly father may surround you, giving you everything that you need.
March 6, 2008 at 5:07 pm
Jodi
I have a little girl, 3 and a half, and the other day I was reading the Bible (trying to, but being interuppted several times). She wanted to get her Bible and come read it with me. I was thrilled.
We were reading about a man who was lame, but was healed completely. I was asked several questions and we moved into the conversation of miracles.
Somehow this led into talk about my granthfather who died at Chrismas, shortly after Marissa. He also died of cancer. He was 81. She knows that he was very sick, too sick to get better. I thought of you and started to cry. She asked why I was crying and I told her it was because I was sad for your kids that they didn’t have a mom anymore. It hurt me because I’m a mom of a three year old, and pray that it will stay that way for a long time. But the reality is that we need to cherish EVERY minute that we have with those we love and live EVERY day how God would want us to. Boy, do I fall short.
Next, we moved on to prayer. I asked her if God ever talked to her, she said “Yeah” what does he tell her? “I am powered”…..looking at me she says “you are too, mom. You are powered by God, too”. Wow! Then she danced around in a princess dress. God is amazing. He is everything.
I have to imagine that there are hundreds of people out there right now who have wanted to send you a message of hope and love and frienship who haven’t because we really don’t have any answers for you. I just want you to know that your willingness to share changes me each time I take a few minutes to try to enter into your grief with you, for you.
Thinking of you, Jodi.
March 19, 2008 at 11:37 am
Kristy
Mendelt,
It is good that you keep writing…and healing does happen eventually, even through your grieving. Sometimes overwhelmed by it more than other times. Sometimes (often?) sneaking up on you at “odd” times.
As JPV said:
“We pretend too much in North America that every thing’s ok when it is not. And certainly people’s eyes will glaze over when they ask “how’s everything” and you say how you really feel. Don’t let it stop you or cause you to question yourself.”
I couldn’t agree more. We lost my husband’s mom (Oma) three weeks ago – on the one hand, it seems like forever ago, and on the other, it seems like just yesterday. It was sudden, it was shocking. She was healthy, mostly. She was going to babysit our kids that night. We prayed that after the massive stroke, God would take her home quickly. He did. Our kids were well prepared, thanks to your family…because even tho we don’t know you personally, we prayed constantly for you (and still do), and the kids learned about death/dying from your experience. They understood about dying sometimes being merciful, they heard about death and going to heaven, and they prayed for comfort – for you, for your children. It was very real for them – not as real as it was for you, but real enough to prepare them for what was coming…
So, when I/we eventually run into you at SDCH (where our kids will eventually end up; hope you are there then) or in the grocery store, and ask how you guys are doing…please be honest – I’m OK with grief. My own, and that of others. I may not fully understand all the nuances, but I *promise* my eyes won’t glaze over.
Strength to you and yours,
Kristy (and the crew)