A Letter To My Husband's Murderers In Honor Of Good Friday

Good Friday~ 2014

Dear Souls~ ( All 3 of you)

This year is the 20th Anniversary of the evening you killed my husband, Chris Walter, while robbing him on Good Friday, April 2, 1994.  My heart still races in terror as I remember witnessing the mortal gunshot wound to his head while you attempted to escape in a getaway car...All while our precious 6 month old baby lay sleeping nearby. Rushing to my husband's side, I only found innocent blood gushing from his lifeless body.

For years, I struggled with anger and hate for you 3 strangers who wrecked Good Friday. 

Not this Good Friday. 
It's 20 years later and I don't hate you anymore. 
I still hate what you did but I don't hate you in the slightest bit. 

You, just like me, were created by God and He loves us more than we could ever imagine.  Even though we betray Him or turn our backs on him, He still hopes that we will all come back to Him, to know His love for us and be with Him in heaven someday.  I hope this for you, just as much as I hope this for myself and the rest of my family.  We are never happy in this life until we find the living God, who still dwells among us, and run to Him.  He is waiting with open arms and His mercy is endless.  "Though the mountains leave their place and the hills be shaken, My love shall never leave you nor my covenant of peace be shaken, says the Lord, who has mercy on you."~Isaiah 54:10, 14-15

In fact, God loves all of us so much, that He sent his only Son, Jesus Christ, to die for us.  He even died a most horrible and murderous death on a cross for all human beings, not just a select few.  It was Good Friday that day too. 

Good Friday is about love and not hate. 

In fact, there was a robber who was crucified right next to Jesus who was forgiven during his dying moments because he had faith in God's son, the Redeemer of the world.  When the robber cried out "Jesus, remember me, when you come into my kingdom, " Jesus cried: "Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise." (Luke 23:43)  The robber's faith set him free.  Even though you have 20 more years in prison, your soul can still find freedom...

While He hung dying on the Cross that Good Friday, Jesus also forgave his own murderers before he died, exclaiming: "Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."  (Luke 23:34)  He knew they could not possibly know what they were doing...If only they believed!

It is here at the foot of the Cross where I find truth and meaning.  God speaks to us there as we all bear our own crosses in this life.  His loving gaze sustains us as He suffered just like we do in all things but sin.  He wants us all to be happy with Him forever.  There is no other love greater than His.

Believing this with all of my heart, I forgive you. 
Believing this with all of my soul, I love you.

Life did not end on that Good Friday 2000 years ago or on that Good Friday 20 years ago.
Life begins on Good Friday because it ends with Easter Sunday.
Christ rose from the dead to prove life...An Eternal life that is free for the choosing.

On this Good Friday, I am praying you will seek and find Him.
On this Good Friday, I am trying to begin again.
On this Good Friday, I hope you will too.

Life, not death, has the last word.
Love wins.
Peace be with you,
Tiffany

"Christ himself bore our sins in his body upon the cross, so that, free from sin, we might live for righteousness.  By his wounds, you have been healed." 1 Peter 2:24

Hope For All Souls

It's that time of year again when the souls of the faithful departed come forefront to our prayers.  Though we pray all throughout the year, the feast of All Souls is an ever-present reminder that we are not of this world and there is life to be hoped for in the next.  As Catholics, we pray that we will not only be reunited with all of our loved ones who've gone before us but also that they make a swift passage, safely home, to rest in peace. {I'm certainly no theologian so more information can be found here and here.}

One of the reasons I first started blogging a few years ago was to share hope after a tragic loss.  At the time, it felt like a calling since writing has always been a therapeutic and spiritual outlet for me.  By sharing hope, I mean living through tough things, even the worst things imaginable and still have a song in your heart, still knowing that God works all things for our greater good. 

I'm not saying that it easily translates to every action.  In fact, sometimes the song in my heart sure doesn't sound very good on the outside at all…I get discouraged and I fail miserably on a daily basis. Yet even when I fall short in bearing wrongs patiently, the song keeps playing.  It's there now, like never before.  It keeps me moving forward, knowing for certain that there's life beyond my trials.  

Hope waits for all of us...

For me, Hope has never been a fluffy white cloud that's easy to reach out and grab ahold of...  Sometimes a Hallmark greeting card might make it seem this way…Like it might be handed to you on a silver platter. Wrong.

The thing is, a song of hope rises directly out of suffering.  I see it as a gift... Not like a gift you open with pretty wrapping paper but a gift like being pulled from a fire. 

Ultimately, hope is a sacrificial gift rooted in the Cross…"The" Cross.  

...A gift called grace.

After all, God Himself was anchored on that Cross so that we might see His abundant gift(s) quite clearly.  That man up there was one of them...He gave us His only Son who was brutally murdered so that we might have hope.  The greatest gift of HOPE rose through the the glory of Christ's Resurrection…Salvation came to life.  

Hope became the window to Eternity so that we might be able to live. 

If you believe this, nothing else in this life really matters.

Most people who read this blog know my testimony about surviving the horror of my dear and precious husband, Chris, being shot and killed in front of me, senselessly murdered during a robbery while our sleeping baby laid near by.  Who in the world does this random kind of thing happen to for no reason? It still boggles my mind at times.  Well, us, I guess…and our family.  Oh, and Jesus.  Oh, and many innocent children…Oh, and the victims of 9/11… The list goes on and on in my mind now. But for a very long time, I felt like the only victim on the planet.  But in the end it happened to me, just like terrible things happen to a lot of good people out there.  Still, after my world shattered around me I wallowed in the rubble for quite some time.  Hope was a faint echo in the night. It was a very dark place.  Sometimes it still is.  

Sometimes, hope hurts.  I'm sure it did for Jesus hanging on that horrid Cross.

Much like the rewards of hard work, hope reaps amazing rewards but we are often left with a callous or two, or three.  Pain still comes in our daily struggles.  Everyone carries scars to the grave.  I know I will never be able to shake the scars of war and violence that have no earthly cures…

I might look like a happy, crafty, homeschooling Mom who has nothing else better to do but make churchy kid food and post pictures about it.  Sometimes I slip into this role because there is where my hope can be pretty.  
Hope must be my habit. 
After once being in a place where I thought I'd never survive such an atrocity, I've come to find that teaching my children about their faith is living beauty….Living hope.  The history of those who've gone before us, living real lives of suffering, teaches us that there is hope despite the hurt, hope despite ourselves.

Inside real life, hope still hurts, yet the healing hope lies just beyond the gate.  Sometimes it's risky to look toward the light, leaving the dysfunctional comfort of our sorrows in a heap.  Yet the freedom of this light flickers inside the deepest recesses of every soul, longing to flee the darkness.  Beyond the shadows of our doubt, life is anchored here and Hope is always worth hoping for.

Today as I pray for Chris and All Souls, I light a candle of hope.  May it be our greatest desire!

{More on Hope...}

Resurrecting

I've been in a terrible funk since Holy Week...Soooo, needless to say, "resurrecting" is taking a little longer for me this year.  {sigh}

It's been awhile since I've been this down.  

Some of it was certainly triggered by Good Friday, death anniversary, and the tragic events in my past that swirl around my spirit like a hurricane this time of year.   However, the continuation of the angst must be connected to other (unrelated) life changes and stresses.

I could certainly use *prayers*.

On an up note, the beauty of being a Catholic Christian through life's painful circumstances and emotions is that there is still Easter rejoicing.  There will always be Easter rejoicing, no matter what.
The stone was rolled away and light became a truth-teller.

I know this... 

Pain, sorrow, wounds and all, only because

Christ showed us this, Himself. 

It's a good thing, too.  

Otherwise, I'm not sure how many of us could go on.
The Resurrection sustains me.

  More than ever, I am thankful that the Resurrection is not a fleeting feeling or an emotion. 
It's a more than a single event... 
It's more than a season or a time period... 
It's a sure thing, it's a constant, and it's forever.  

 Unlike the here and now that can be consuming at times, the resurrection is freedom.
We are reminded of this in the Acts of the Apostles (5:17-26) where the angel of the Lord leads Peter and the apostles out of the darkness and confines of the prison into the morning light and freedom of the temple area.

 Though I am not good at being patient with my trials. At. all. 
The resurrection serves to remind me that my struggles are not in vain.  Without a struggle to roll back the stone, we are tempted to retract, weakened by a door that is too heavy to open.  Longing for the light, gives us strength to bear the load. 
Resurrecting might take longer than 3 days for most of us.  In fact it just might take a lifetime.  I'm ok with that, as long as I get there eventually...One Easter at a time. 

Though every sun shall spend its fire
And galaxies shall dim to shade,
The Light by whom these lights were made
Shall never flicker, never fade.

In us arise, O Light of lights.
Burn brightly in the caverned heart.
Consume the shade that fear supplies, 
And peace and truth instead impart.

Hymn from Magnificat

He Must Have Known...Calvary Hill

It's that time of year again...My Calvary beckons.

For those who have lost dear ones, they know that grief changes but it never goes away...

Like a vast ocean that ebbs and tides over a span of a lifetime, it's always there, a cross to bear.  And yet the load shifts, if we allow it, moving to new places in the undiscovered crevices of our soul.  

Just over the hill from the cemetery lies the ocean that carries the waves of my story.  He, Lord of heaven and earth, must have known I'd need the sea...
 New ways to bear this load, in strengthened faith and resolve, keep me in forward motion.  Memories of a life once had are just over my shoulder, begging a backward glance...a life that could have been, a life not meant to be. Though deep and happy, my spirit is strained.

 The struggle never ceases but at the same time, neither do the consolations...
(I came across this quote yesterday)
"Bear the cross but do not make the cross bear you."
~Philip Neri~
Amen.

Last weekend, I made my annual trek to the resting place of my dear, late husband, Chris.  He has been buried at the top of the hill, under that beautiful evergreen tree at Calvary Cemetery, for many years now. Still, it never ceases to amaze me that we buried him on top of Calvary Hill after his tragic death on Good Friday.  
It wasn't my plan. 
Without a doubt, God had this all in mind.
He must have known.

He must have known that I'd find comfort in uniting my cross to those 3 crosses at the top of the hill with each passing year...

 

He must have known I'd bring my memories, my sadness, my loss, one foot in front of the other, uniting one Good Friday with another.

He must have known that I'd find beauty in the fields of gold...Peace in the whisper of the hilltop winds.

He must have known that the seeds of forgiveness would brightly bloom, beginning right here.

He must have known where there was hatred, there would be love...

Where there was darkness, there would be light,

Where there was doubt, there would be faith.

He must have known that climbing the hill to Calvary would heal the brokenhearted.
(Isaiah 61:1-2)

He must have known that the foot of the cross would become an altar of grace.

He must have known that one Good Friday after another, sorrow and love would mingle in a flow of life saving remedy.

Here lies a slain soldier, who heroically shed his blood...laid down his own life to save the life of his family.

As always, the parallels this time of year are uncanny on my Calvary Hill...They have helped me survive over the years, contributing to my armoury of hope...He must have known.

The God of all grace who called you to his eternal glory through Christ Jesus will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you after you have suffered a little.  To Him be dominion forever.
1 Peter 5:10-11

All Souls Family Prayer Candle

I'm sharing this very easy liturgical craft to remember all of our loved ones who have gone before us, especially those in the last year.

With All Souls Day coming up this week and November being the month dedicated to the Holy Souls in purgatory, how about making an All Souls Family Prayer Candle?

The idea is to write the names of all of your loved ones on the candle to remember all through the month (and beyond) in your family's prayers.  Each time you light the candle during family prayer time, or just keep it burning, you offer your remembrance.
Materials needed, plus stickers (optional):

I found that the gold paint pen did not show up very well...We used the black sharpie for the names to stand out. 

 Even the children can help write the names!...

There's plenty of room to include several names all the way around the candle and you may choose to add names to it each year.
I like that it's easy to move around the house!

You can place it on a mantel or a prayer table/home altar if you have one:)

It would also make an appropriate center piece for your dinner table to include in your meal time prayers.

+May all of your prayers fly to greet the souls of your loved ones on the wings of peace and guide you and your family to consolation, healing and strength+
~Lord, please hear our prayers~

A Mom Is Always A Mom

I just returned from Parent's Weekend at my son's college.  I must say, the university did a fabulous job planning many fun activities. For me, however, it was more about the hugs.  

It was all about checking on in and spending time with my son, rather than running around to all of the special events. (Though we did attend a few:) Let's face it, Moms worry about their kids and we never stop wanting the best for them, even when they leave home as adults.  I'd be the first to admit that sometimes I cling too tight...Especially when the distance is incredibly long!  I know in my head heart that Jesus has the wheel on this one but I still need an occasional visual check and tangible reassurance that my child is o.k., all these miles away. (Even if he's almost 19 years old)!  

I just had a few simple questions that I needed answers to.  Is that really too much for a Mom to ask?

1. Is my son really o.k., alive and well?

2. Is my son happy?

3. Is my son healthy?

At first glance, he looked really tired.  I heard about the tough academics and I saw, first hand, the physical effects.  Yet all the answers came out with a yes. Yes, he is alive and well.  Yes, he is healthy (though a bit thin) and YES, he is happy.  Best of all, I saw that he is not just artificially happy on the outside but deeply fulfilled on the inside.  In return, this makes a Mom unequivocally happy, right?  
I must say that I observed that this joy seems to be a common experience at a university that digs deep, beyond the surface of our shallow humanity.

This begins with the campus.....

It's a beautiful campus, don't get me wrong.  But it's not immediately pleasing to the visual expectations that the world might have. Although it does have this strong tower...

I found that exploring this particular university is a process of discovery.  Obviously, one does not come here for the beach or the mountain scenery...there is none of that. 

But there's something else that you find here, something beyond the beach and the mountains.  There's just something about being here that you can't put your finger on...something about peace...

...And there's something about the trees that help deliver it.

As I meandered down the lush green paths, framed by an assortment of branches, I felt protected.

If you really pay attention to the silence in your heart, it might seem that these woods have arms begging to embrace you...At the same time gently nudging you down mysterious walkways, leading you beyond yourself.  I wondered if the students here feel the same way...?

The students call the campus a "bubble" and I found it rightly so.

Maybe it's just me but despite the mystery, I found simple and purposeful beauty everywhere I looked...

At the heart of the campus, I found what I believe is the source of peace, the energy behind it, delivered by the trees of course...

The Lord of heaven and earth is exposed here every day, all day.

How can this place not be a bubble? 

Or a canopy of love?

That's my motherly opinion, anyway.
Note~BIG DISCLAIMER:

I'm also not naive enough to believe that it's a perfect fairy tale, here in this place.  Don't get me wrong, I understand that college kids are having all kinds of fun, day in and day out.  Yet a mighty force is still there, I just know it is.  It's boldly watching and waiting, strategically exposed by the trees.

And back to that strong tower...Oh how I've fallen in love with the tower.  Surely I'm one in a million who have done the same thing!

Seen from almost every nook and cranny of the campus, it is the beacon of light that shines over the heart.

It is there for all to see.

"...the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."~1 John 1:5

I'll admit there were moments when I forgot where I was...You could be anywhere, really.  Especially when it poured buckets of rain.
Take your pick...Texas or anywhere...Near a lamp post or lantern waste, maybe?

It doesn't really matter when you have a strong tower.

Some dear friends, whose daughter is now an alum from here, asked me to give the strong tower a hug for them.  I was happy to do as they wished!

Greeted by new friends and smiling faces, an army of angels encamped me!

I got to meet a dear bloggy friend for the 2nd time...This time around was super special as I got to meet her lovely children!  Patty, who blogs at Reasons for Chocolate, met me on campus and whisked me away for an authentic Texan lunch...Stuffed, fried, avocados, with tortilla soup:)  YUM!

Patty is a dear, just like you would imagine, and her children reminded me so much of my own.  They (all of them) truly blessed my whole afternoon!

Looking back on my trip, it's hard to believe that I fretted so much about coming back to Texas.  Traveling alone is what stressed me out.  I had been to campus once before in the secure company of a dear friend.  But I knew this time was meant to be different.  I needed to face things on my own, once and for all.  I have often wondered why the good Lord has brought our family full circle...Back to a large state that holds very traumatic memories, a place where my late, dear, husband was killed.  Texas state prisons hold the robbers who committed this horribly, random, crime.  The whole circle, bringing our son back here for college, is so mind boggling that only God could have designed such a plan...a plan for His peace.

Peace came right along, right here, in spite of my fretting, in spite of myself.  I give full credit to my local prayer warrior friends that I called upon before my departure.  I know, without a doubt, that I was carried on the wings of their prayers.  Truly, not an ounce of fear beheld me, not once! This is a miracle as I'm one who struggles with anxiety and PTSD. It was certainly amazing grace.

This statue of St. Michael stands at the entry to the Church of the Incarnation on campus.  On Saturday, the Feast of the Archangels, I found it fitting to pray in thanksgiving.

(September Magnificat, pg. 386)

"Give thanks to the Lord, all his hosts

his servants who do his will.

Give thanks to the Lord, all his works,

in every place where he rules.

My soul, give thanks to the Lord!"

In my last hours at the university, I strolled around campus while my son did some studying.  Popping into the Adoration Chapel,  I offered my prayers for all those who have prayed for me.  Last but not least, I entrusted my son to the great I Am.  In my foolishness, of course.  After all, it is I who had been the borrower all these years.  Our children are never ours to keep, they are His and we are the entrusted ones.  

Kneeling there, I left them there, all of my prayers.
College boy might just think he's the one that's "free"...but guess what?  So am I.  Not free of being a Mom, of course. (That job is never done) But free of the things that keep me from trust...Trust in the one who trusted me in the first place, the One who entrusts all Mothers (and Fathers) with His children.

One thing's for sure, I'll carry that strong tower in my heart, until we meet again.

I'll carry the mystery and possibilities of a future filled with promise.

I'll carry the little things in life that really matter, the things unseen by the human eye.

The treasures of blessed moments and time well spent.

There among the roses, kneels Our Lady, Queen of Angels, Mother of God.  Peeking through the branches, of the trees that deliver me, I smile.
No words spoken, no words needed.
A statue remains but a mother's heart still beats in us all...

She more than anyone else surely knows that a Mom is always a Mom.