He Pulled Me Through

From the time I was a little girl I remember having a notion of God. I grew up Catholic and went to church. There was something mysteriously drawing me to something much bigger than myself. I sometimes would walk to the church in my neighboorhood of East Los Angeles when no services were in session. I would sit in the pews and take in the beauty of the stained glass and statues; I remember the sweet smell of candles and incense that seemed to wrap itself around me.

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Gabriel on the far right in New Jersey

Gabriel and Mom

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loss, cancer, grief, Los Angeles, death, surviving, losing child

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• Where's God in suffering?
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I wandered through my teens still having that same vague sense that God was there. I seemed happy go lucky and easy going but inside I experienced a great deal of turmoil. I never felt I measured up, and seemed to feel out of step, like I didn't belong. Of course no one would ever guess I harbored these thoughts because I maintained a facade that portrayed otherwise.

My parents divorced in my Senior year of high school, at 17 I graduated and moved out on my own. It was at this age that I embarked on a steady habit of drug and alcohol use and abuse. I still managed to keep a job and function normally; I remember feeling that I needed to be high. I jumped in and out of many relationships, and I use that term loosely. Still, the notion of God gnawed deep inside.

I searched and tried to find my answers in Buddhism; this came after a period where I fluctuated between being a self proclaimed agnostic and atheist. In my early twenties I was doing makeup on a movie set in Las Vegas and met a couple who were involved in doing stunts. I felt both attracted and repelled to this man and woman; I couldn't quite figure them out. They were saying "Praise God" all the time and it sounded so foreign to me; they spoke of Jesus like he lived next door.

The relationship I developed with Monte and Pam Perlin changed the course of my life. I became the nanny to their 3 children while Monte and Pam worked in Africa on a Chuck Norris film. They became my mentors and patterned what true Christianity was all about; they shared a deep loving relationship with Christ. I married a man who was in the Air Force stationed at Nellis, together we dedicated our lives to Jesus. We would move to Germany where we would have 3 children. We would then go to Springfield, Missouri, for the next 4 years, where my husband would attend Bible College.

After Bible College we felt God's calling to be inner city missionaries in Los Angeles. I struggled with this because I had grown up in "the hood", and was uneasy about exposing my children to the same environment I'd grown up in (only now it would be much worse). We moved to Huntington Park on the heels of the Los Angeles riots to pastor a small church. I loved the people and thoroughly enjoyed teaching the kids and spending time with the women from the community. We were also involved with Teen Challenge Ministries and mentored graduates who were interested in continuing on to the ministry.

While feeling fulfilled in the ministry, I still felt a deep disconnect in my relationship with my husband and couldn't figure out why. He had always been sort of a work-aholic and completely immersed himself in whatever task he took on, to the exclusion of his family. I would reason that my insecurities were getting the best of me and I had nothing to worry about. Unfortunately, I didn't feel I had a venue where I could share my struggles.  Other pastor's wives seemed to be very content. My experiences were different, so I kept them to myself.

In December of 1998 I would travel to San Diego to give an overview of our ministry to some women from a large church, in the hopes of raising some much needed funds. An elderly woman named Estelle motioned for me to sit by her as lunch was served. She had her Bible opened to Psalm 84. She asked me to read verses 5-7. "Blessed are those whose strength is in you,who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Baca (or weeping) they make it a place of springs." Over and over she had me emphasize the word through, almost to the point of monotony. I had no idea how that verse would impact my life.

In the Spring of '99, my husband would announce that he no longer loved me and wanted a divorce. My life was over, no more ministry, no marriage, and the family we once had was shattered. Many believed we were perfect, and looking back, I realize now that I relished in that facade. My three children and I moved to Idaho, where my immediate family had recently moved; there I would begin a new life. It's amazing how God keeps us through difficulties. It seemed I was in a fog, I went to church and worked, mostly going through the motions. There was no way I could truly face the severe blows of heartache and rejection I encountered. The verses Estelle gave me reminded me that God had not abandoned me, and that He would pull me through.

The following year my 13 year old son informed me that he would be moving to Long Beach with his Dad who was now living with his lover. My ex-husband had completely turned his back on God and had embraced his new identity as a homosexual. Legally, my hands were tied and I had to let Gabriel go to California; he was free to choose whom he'd live with. There I stood in the Valley of Weeping, I was in a corner and had no way out. I didn't feel like there was a way to get through. I was numb as I stood by my son, who was boarding the plane to Los Angeles. I knew life would forever be changed; I had to let him go. My interaction with him would be minimal over the next few years, he seemed to float further and further away from me and his faith.

Three years later we invited my ex-husband and Gabriel to share the Christmas holiday with us. I wanted our family to be together. As Gabriel stepped off the plane I was amazed at how tall he'd grown, he was 6' 6"; I hadn't seen him in months. He also had his arm in a sling from an injury he'd incurred at school; a classmate had punched him in the arm and oddly, he still experienced excruciating pain. He was urged to have it x-rayed when he returned to LA. We found out in January of 2004 that the pain was the cause of a tumor, which after further testing was diagnosed as osteosarcoma (bone cancer).

There are no words to describe the feelings that tumbled upon me after hearing the news that my son had cancer. We were estranged as it was, cancer didn't improve matters. Over the next year I would make several trips to Los Angeles when Gabriel underwent chemo-therapy and various surgeries to remove various tumors that had spread throughout his body. His heart was so broken. I longed to share so many things with him, yet he didn't want me to speak of his circumstances.   Instead I prayed, and when he slept I would gently carress him. Lord, see us through. I genuinely believed Gabriel would be healed. His prognosis dwindled and the doctors would soon tell us to prepare for hospice.

Early one December morning, as I passed a church on my way to gather some items Gabriel wanted for breakfast I cried out loud, "I thought you were going to heal him Lord!". The tears I'd held back for so long burst forth. A quiet voice came to me and firmly whispered to my heart, "I am healing him". Instantly I felt peace overtake me. This is God's healing, he is taking Gabriel home. It took everything Gabriel had to spend one last Christmas with us, on the 26th of December he took one last breath and the Lord took him home. Upon Gabe's request we were singing:

"Jesus, Lover of my Soul, Jesus I will never let you go. You've taken me from the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, now I know, I love you, I need you, though my world may fall I'll never let you go. My savior, my faithful friend, I will worship you until the very end."

Psalm 84 has been my anchor of truth:

5 Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.

6 As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools.

7 They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion.

These dark valleys have proven to be a place of transformation, a place of strength. God has made them a watering ground of encouragement, not only for me but for others I've encountered along the way. Gabriel-he is in heaven, a place that is now SO real to me, that's his address. I am here, left behind with all of you, working out God's purpose, and endeavoring to make the most of every moment. Thank you Lord, for continuing to bring me through!