Saying Goodbye

Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the LORD that will stand. Proverbs 19:21

            Anne’s mood matched the gray dampness of Washington. It was difficult to imagine she had ever enjoyed Washington’s climate, which had always seemed damp. A full day of sun was a rare experience. There were times she could have sworn the Washington state flower was something other than the coast rhododendron, and the state bird something other than the willow goldfinch. She hadn’t seen either for several days. She hadn’t seen the sun for a while either—only dismal gray skies.  

            The Forever House was almost empty. Anne’s sister Dawn, and brother-in-law Bruce, were getting closer to having everything packed, loaded, and ready to move her and her boys to Colorado. They would leave a mattress, a chair, and a few kitchen items for Mike. She felt a pang of sorrow for her deployed husband, knowing he would return to an empty house.   

Anne Reminisces

            Anne’s footsteps echoed in each near-empty room as she deliberately strolled from one to the other. So much had happened to her and her family, in the Forever Home.  They had lost everything. It wouldn’t be long before they would never see the house again. 

            “My memories came in waves, as I walked from room to room. I thought about my high exposure to allergens and my bone marrow overreacting. I thought about my doctors’ strong recommendation we relocate to a drier climate at a higher elevation. They said that would be the best thing we could do for my health, and they suggested California or Colorado.

            “Neither Mike nor I could ever imagine leaving Washington. I recalled, that in our nightly prayers, we continued to petition God for healing for myself. We were sure to direct His attention to our specific needs.

            “And I thought about one other thing. Mike and I had been so confident of God telling us to go to Bremerton, we missed the part of His plan that we were to do so for only a season. We desired to make Bremerton our permanent home.

“Doing that wasn’t part of God’s plan for us.”

Mike’s Concern for Anne

            As Anne continued strolling from room to room, she couldn’t help but think of all she and Mike had gone through in searching for their Forever Home, the work they did to make the house a home, and then having to do everything over again to rid the structure of mold.      

            When her health and Mike’s schedule permitted, they would take Noah and Aaron and ‘escape’ for a day or more to a drier part of Washington. The trips helped Anne breathe easier, and they loved the extra time spent with the boys. 

            During the summer of 2009 there were times Anne was so weak she used a wheelchair to get around the main floor of the house. When the mold count was extremely high that fall, Mike thought it would be best for Anne if she and their sons spent some time in Indiana with his dad and Rainy. He made the necessary arrangements, including time off work, and drove his family to his dad’s home.

            “When Mike was ready to leave for the drive back to Washington, I could tell he was reluctant to head home, but he assured me he could manage. To be honest, I didn’t have the energy to argue with him.

            “I could tell Rex and Rainy were more than happy to have us spend some time with them.”

             Recalling that trip and the time with her in-laws brought back one particular memory for Anne.

            “We hadn’t been there more than a couple days. I was about to step into the kitchen, when I overheard Rainy saying to Rex that she was going to get Noah reading and Aaron straightened out if it was the last thing she did. Her tone firm, yet pleasant, caught me off guard. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. I knew her intentions were sincere—after all, she was the experienced professional teacher.

            “Later that afternoon, I forced myself to put things into perspective. Rainy did indeed mean well. She had retired from more than 30 years in the Indiana public school system, where accolade after accolade had come her way. Most everyone in Mitchell, Indiana knew what an amazing and effective teacher she had been. When she retired, there were second and even third generations of students in her classroom.

            “I also knew Rainy had strong opinions on how best to teach. And why wouldn’t she? Her methods had worked well. Perhaps some of her teaching strategies would work to make learning easier for my boys.

            “I knew my mother-in-law loved Noah and Aaron, and it was beyond generous of her to even consider putting in the time and energy to work with them. I wanted to tell her about my challenges teaching, but I decided to keep quiet.

            “Then I watched as Rainy went through the same frustrations, over and over, just as I had—the boys would end up in tears and she would end up exasperated. The day came when she had to admit she wasn’t able to teach my boys any better than I. Both Rex and Rainy acknowledged I was doing a good job teaching their grandsons, and that I had made great progress since they had last seen them. They said they didn’t know how I was doing what I was. Hearing that, especially from Rainy, meant a lot. It seemed none of us knew the full extent of our boys’ learning disabilities. Students in Rainy’s classroom who were identified with learning challenges, had been placed with teachers specifically trained to work with them. 

            “Noah’s dyslexia was complicated, and Aaron’s diagnosis of Central Auditory Processing Deficit (CAPD) placed him in the spectrum of autism. None of us knew the degree of those determinations. And because Aaron was willing, many times eager, to interact socially with others and participate in conversations, it was difficult to accept a diagnosis of any degree of autism. Our boys were far outside the boundaries of normal learning patterns. It would be years before Mike and I, along with extended family, would understand the depth of those boundaries.”

            When Anne and the boys returned home, she prepared to resume homeschooling. There were days she was so sick, thanks to the continued high mold count, it was impossible to work with either son. And she no longer had the energy to drive them to sports activities or the other extracurricular activities offered by the Bremerton School District.

            She did what she could. Mike took the boys to different events when his work schedule permitted. Anne had accepted that her husband didn’t have the patience to homeschool. She also knew God hadn’t spoken to his heart about doing so.

            The teaching Mike did was outdoors. He taught his boys how to properly use hammers, saws, and other shop tools. He taught them about wildlife, and to appreciate the beauty and majesty outdoor life offered. It was up to Anne to teach academics.  

            “Homeschooling isn’t for everyone,” Anne reflected. “You need to be dedicated and committed, and feel that is the call God is placing on your heart.

            “I had never wanted to homeschool, particularly since my boys had learning disabilities, but I knew, deep down, that’s what God wanted me to do. I knew I was the best chance Noah and Aaron had to learn, so I dove in and kept going.”

Church Memories

            Anne wrapped her sweater tighter, and let out a deep sigh. She could hear Dawn and Bruce packing up kitchen items. As she stepped into the family room, she saw the labeled boxes of Bibles and books she had used to prepare for the classes and retreats at church. She had spent hours in preparation, and had done so gladly, feeling led by God and encouraged by many of the women who took every class they could. She and Mike had been so thankful to have found a church home, and they appreciated the messages from the pulpit.

            “There wasn’t any way to measure the energy or calculate the hours I had devoted to my church. I had done so willingly—even though my dedication had put me on a roller coaster. I didn’t feel deserving of the calling, and at times I experienced frustration with being in charge of women’s ministry. I didn’t know how to stop, so I just kept going.

            “Even though I didn’t feel worthy, I wanted to bring women into a closer, personal relationship with God. I designed programs to help them nurture their faith; programs to help them be better wives, mothers, and daughters of the King.”

            And then things began changing. One Sunday morning she and Mike heard words from the senior pastor that seemed a bit off. They talked about it later that day. Had they misunderstood? Had the pastor misspoken? Had he tripped on words, saying something he didn’t intend to say? Thinking their own exhaustion had interfered with their understanding, they dismissed what they had heard.

            “Over time though, Mike and I realized what we were hearing on Sunday mornings was no longer consistent with Bible teaching. Our pastor’s words were an indication he was leaning away from biblical teaching. He was espousing a church philosophy we weren’t in concert with. We wondered who had decided the church was to take a direction away from the Bible.

            “There were other things. Noah had asked to be baptized, and was told, just as Anne had been told at one time, that he was too young. We began to question the things that were changing—was it us or was it them. We felt we couldn’t be the only congregants feeling as we did; certainly there were others. But we didn’t feel comfortable talking to anyone about what we were feeling and experiencing.”

            Because the messages they were hearing ran counter to their beliefs, Anne began stepping back from women’s ministry. It seemed the logical thing to do. One day, after she’d finished teaching a group of women from a Bible based book authored by a renowned Christian writer, Anne gathered her materials, ready to head home.

            “The senior pastor stopped me outside the classroom door. He and his wife, and the associate pastor and his wife, had been guests in our home. In fact, we three couples had become good friends.

            “That day, outside the classroom, I sensed tension, the same tension I had been sensing for several weeks. The pastor took me aside. He told me I was to stop teaching classes based on the book I was using, or any book written by the same author.

            “My next logical step was to resign as Women’s Ministry Director. The powers in charge wasted no time in accepting my resignation.”

            People began leaving the church, and it wasn’t long after her resignation neither she nor Mike felt comfortable talking to people about what was happening.

            “It was difficult to know who was saying what, and difficult to know who Mike and I could trust, particularly after word got back to us that we were being blamed for people leaving the church. We didn’t tell anyone how we were feeling. Alone—that’s how we were feeling."

            Mike had been well respected in his role as an elder. He and others realized there was no protocol about how to handle possible situations that might arise. What should elders do if someone approached them saying they had accepted Christ? What if someone expressed interest in joining the church? What if an adult or child expressed interest in baptism? What did the pastor have to say about the change in his Sunday sermons?

             Mike decided it was time to meet with the senior pastor. He wanted to address his concerns face to face with the man who was both pastor and friend. They met at a local coffee shop. Mike looked his pastor in the eye and asked, “Isn’t it your job to preach and teach from the Bible?”

            Rather than answer Mike, the man cut the awkward visit short, saying he needed to get to an appointment. Mike relayed the brief conversation to Anne.

            “The following Sunday, our pastor incorporated the answer to my husband’s question into his sermon. We listened as he said, 'It’s not my job to feed the sheep. If I do, they will get fat and lazy.’”

            “Mike and I exchanged glances. We both knew, in that moment, we’d lost our church home.”

            Losing their church home was a new and heartbreaking experience for the Schlegels. It couldn’t have come at a worse time. Anne’s health was deteriorating, costs related to the mold damage continued, and there was the possibility of another deployment—each day seemed to have more than one battle that needed to be fought.

            Some of the claims they had filed with their homeowner’s insurance and their health insurance were being denied. Their homeowner’s insurance adjustor told Mike and Anne they needed to subrogate against their health insurance; the health insurance company adjustor was telling them they needed to subrogate against their homeowner’s insurance. Although Anne’s health insurance company covered the greatest majority of her claims, no one was willing to take full responsibility for the mold or the cost of remediation.  

Another Blow

            The Schlegels had filed a lawsuit against the ridge vent company. They did so, not for revenge, but with hopes of recouping some of their losses. The case was dismissed. The jacket of the insurance policy on the house specifically stated, in small print, that mold wasn’t covered under the terms of the contract.

             In what Mike and Anne found to be an unbelievable and haunting twist, their expensive and experienced prosecution attorneys couldn’t overcome the argument that quite likely one of two small spinning vents located on a less steep portion of the roof could have been the cause of mold, rather than the improperly installed ride vents that had given them a false sense of security.

            With money tight, Anne was forced to change her shopping habits. “I started using coupons as one way of pinching pennies. I did cost comparisons and watched for sales for the things we needed.  

            “As a mom I was used to giving my kids certain things. Then I found they could roll with the punches. We started making homemade pizza for family night, seeing who would come up with the craziest toppings. We had fun, and as a bonus, the pizza tasted good! Instead of going out, we stayed in and watched movies we already owned, or ones we rented.”

            Anne could feel a hint of a smile crossing her face as she thought about those pizza nights. She knew they would continue those once they reached Colorado.

            Memories. So many memories. Anne found herself standing in the front of the family room window. Mt. Rainier was in sight, tall and majestic, as if showing off for her, reminding her of Psalm 121, verse 1 in particular: I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.

            “I had looked out that window, looked at Mt. Rainier so many times over the years. And now, doing so just brought more memories.

            “The boys and I had been back from our time with Rex and Rainy no more than three weeks when Mike received word he was being deployed to Afghanistan. Both of us knew this assignment would be different from the previous two, and far more challenging. We had hoped Mike would be able to retire without another deployment, but the Navy had other plans.

            “Before Mike deployed, we took a trip to Colorado’s Front Range. Prior to leaving, we spent time triangulating map overlays of mold counts, hospitals, schools, and humidity levels. In Colorado, we visited friends in Fort Collins, in addition to spending time in Longmont, Loveland, Lyons, and Estes Park. I felt much better in Colorado; we didn’t feel inclined to visit California. Colorado’s mountains would offer us the same recreational activities we had enjoyed in Washington. Before we headed home, we connected with a realtor in the Lyons area, whom we felt would work on our behalf.

            “I knew this trip wasn’t easy for Mike. In fact it was stressful for him. We weren’t looking for a retirement location based on proximity to family, or proximity to work, or even in proximity to a favorite vacation spot. The location we were looking for was based on mold counts, humidity levels, and access to medical care for me.

            “We hadn’t been to Colorado before, hadn’t lived there before, and we didn’t have any family connections to the state. The only thing it offered us was low mold count and low humidity.”

A Different Prayer

            “Communication was difficult during Mike’s deployment. Opportunities to speak by phone didn’t happen as often as we would have liked. He had no access to cell phone, and he could only communicate via limited access to military satellite phone. And when we did talk, my husband spoke to me in a manner that was distant and guarded. I didn’t know at the time it was his way of protecting me from all he was experiencing.  

            “It was during one of those phone conversations that we prayed. The tenor of our prayers changed. We had been so disobedient—praying for what we wanted, not for what God wanted for us. We were so disobedient He took everything from us—my health, our church home, our house, our friends, and our finances. Everything. He took everything.

            “So our prayer during that phone call was a prayer of submission. We asked God what He wanted for us, and we confessed we were now willing to wait on Him, ready to obey Him.”

            Not long after that, Mike emailed Dawn, with a simple message: Your sister needs your help.

            “When Dawn called, I couldn’t hide just how ill and worn out I was. It was hard to admit I needed assistance.” 

More Reminiscing

            “As I wandered into the kitchen, I saw that Dawn and Bruce had things well under control. They had taken a divide-and-conquer approach in packing up the house, from arranging for the largest rental truck available, down to the finite details of securing breakables. They were organized, and everything was being handled with care, carefully wrapped and boxed, and then labeled.

            “They engaged Noah and Aaron in packing smaller items from their bedrooms. I helped my boys sort out what clothes to pack, and what to set aside for the long drive to Colorado.”

            “Once we finished packing their clothes, I told my boys I needed to run an errand, and asked them to stay in the house. I told them to tell their aunt and uncle I’d be back soon, and if they asked for their help with anything to make sure to give it.”

            Anne knew Dawn and Bruce were too wrapped up in their efforts to pay attention to what she was doing.

            “I didn’t want them stopping me or insisting on driving me. This was something I needed to do alone. I steered the car down the driveway, and focused on my driving.”

            While driving, Anne recalled how God had brought her and her friend Cindy together. She had been writing in her journal one evening, when God spoke to her, asking her to go to the hospital and visit a woman named Cindy, whose two-year old daughter, Madeline, was a patient.

            The idea had seemed quite awkward to Anne. Why would that woman want her visiting? The two had seen each other at church, but they had never met. But God said “go,” so Anne did.

            “Cindy, and her husband Dave, lovingly called their daughter Maddie. The shortened name fit well with their little girl’s twinkling eyes and happy demeanor. When I made my first visit, I learned Maddie had been hospitalized for a third and hopefully final surgery to repair a heart abnormality.”

            During the next six months, the women came to know each other well. Anne found Cindy a woman who wore her faith on her sleeve—she always managed to be a ray of sunshine for others. Both Cindy and Dave were going through endless trials with Maddie and her health.

            Anne was most impressed with the degree to which Maddie’s parents trusted God with their daughter’s health. With every visit, their relationship grew. Almost from the beginning, both women knew their friendship would last a lifetime. Anne would always be grateful for the degree to which Cindy had helped with mold remediation—she had been a lifeline for Anne.

A Temporary Goodbye

            “When I reached my destination and parked the car I was relieved no one else was in sight. I wasn’t in the mood to acknowledge anyone else’s pain—not that afternoon. I needed the place to myself. I needed to be alone.”

            The cemetery was peaceful, with a view overlooking Liberty Bay, in Poulsbo. Anne wrapped her arms around her shoulders, as if doing so would keep the dampness at bay. She scanned the hillside. How many times would she have to stop to catch her breath before she covered the distance between the car and the gravesite? Slowly, carefully, she put one foot ahead of the other, stopping when she needed to catch her breath. It wouldn’t take much to slip on the damp grass. The slight incline was at least three quarters the length of a football field.

            Back when breathing was effortless, she could have easily covered that distance and not been winded. She hated that now, her lungs were forcing her to stop every few feet and suck in air.

            Anne missed the beautiful little blond girl who had touched her heart, and she missed Maddie’s mom. After Maddie’s death, Cindy and David had taken their family and moved out of state for his work. Anne had so much respect for Cindy, more than her friend would ever know. Cindy loved God despite the fact He had taken Maddie, and Anne saw in her a faith that was real.

            Coming to the gravesite was the only way Anne knew to be close to Maddie; her three-year-old spirit wasn’t there, but Anne had a need to draw near. She dropped to her knees.

            “Oh Maddie, I miss you so much, and I can’t begin to imagine how much your family misses you. Look, I brought you some pink and yellow Gerbera daisies. I hope you like them. I still remember the last few days you were in the hospital. You were so sick, and that last surgery you had didn’t fix your heart. You wound up with a bunch of complications, instead, and things didn’t look good.

            “I remember that late-night phone call from your Mom. I drove to the hospital as fast as I could. When I got to your room, your mother was in bed with you, holding you tight. She told me you no longer had any brain function.

            “I wanted to die inside. I tried to be strong for your mom, but when she asked me, ’”How do I let her go?’” I didn’t have an answer. There’s no answer for a question like that. I honestly thought Jesus would raise you from the dead, just as He did with Lazarus. I couldn’t understand how He could just let you die.”

            Anne looked at the small pile of petals covering Maddie’s grave. She had unconsciously been picking them off the stems. Their vibrant color matched the vibrancy of the little girl whose life had been cut short.

            “Oh Maddie, my heart breaks when I think of all that time you spent in the hospital. Your Mom never wavered in her faith. She had every right to scream and to question God and she just kept trusting Him—your mom’s faith is unbelievable and genuine.

            “She and your Dad were stoic when your doctors told them about the massive bleed in your brain. I still remember your mom cradling your lifeless body. You looked so serene and peaceful. You weren’t hurting anymore. We all knew you were with the Lord, but that didn’t keep us from crying until there were no more tears, and then we’d all start in again. Even your daddy was crying. My heart felt as though it was breaking into a million pieces. I couldn’t begin to imagine the hurt and pain your parents experienced.”

            Anne felt a ray of sunshine warming her back. Precocious Maddie had been a ray of sunshine. She was a beautiful little girl, always wearing her princess sash, a tiara on top of her blond curls, and dancing, when she had the energy, in her favorite Tasmanian Devil print pajamas.

            “Are you dancing now, Maddie? Are you dancing for the Lord? Are you running and dancing and worshipping at His feet? I had to come see you before leaving Washington. You have no idea how much I miss you, and your parents too. I love you Maddie. I know your heart is healed and you’re healthy and no longer in pain.

            “I’ll see you again someday, little princess. Maybe you’ll let me join you in dancing for Jesus. I’d like that.”

            Anne laid the remaining daisies on Maddie’s grave. They would eventually wither and die, but Maddie’s spirit would live on. Anne knew she’d see Maddie again. Then she too would be healed and no longer need to struggle for air. She would be free, just like Maddie.

            The brief ray of sunshine had given way to a chilling drizzle. Anne picked herself up from the damp ground and began making her way to the car.

Little Princess Maddie would forever remain in her heart.

***

I distanced myself emotionally from what I was hearing—otherwise I wouldn’t be able to write about home schooling, leaving the home that was to be the place where they retired, and losing a church home. How much more would this family be asked to endure? And then Anne told me about her trip to the cemetery. We both cried.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version,

copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a division of Good News Publishers.

Used by permission. All rights reserved.