Choosing to SEE Read online

  Choosing to SEE

  A JOURNEY of STRUGGLE and HOPE

  Mary Beth Chapman

  with ELLEN VAUGHN

  © 2010 by Mary Beth Chapman

  Published by Revell

  a division of Baker Publishing Group

  P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

  www.revellbooks.com

  E-book edition created 2010

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – for example, electronic, photocopy, recording – without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-1357-0

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture is taken from the Holy Bible, New International Verson®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com.

  Scripture marked ESV is taken from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version, copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a division of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

  Published in association with Creative Trust, Inc., Literary Division, 5141 Virginia Way, Suite 320, Brentwood, TN 37027, www.creativetrust.com.

  In loving memory of

  Maria Sue Chunxi Chapman

  Mommy misses you so much. Your time with us was too short, but there is only One who holds all of time and eternity in His hands, and we trust Him. My prayer is that Mommy’s tears will continue to water the seeds of your life, and that all who read this story will be pointed to the One who holds you in His arms until I can. I miss your slobber and your laughter and the way you always made me pinky promise to come back and check on you “like in three minutes” after I tucked you in. You are definitely the “Silliest Goober I know.”

  I love you; to infinity . . . and beyond!

  Dedicated to

  Will Franklin

  You have been entrusted with an incredible pain! I’m so sorry. I wish as your mom I could take it away, but I know God has a plan for you to steward this story well and to minister to others through your suffering. You are my hero, as well as Maria’s . . . she loved you so much, as do I!

  Shaoey

  The day you became my daughter changed my life forever! Love took me in, and everything changed. Thanks for telling me on your own you wanted me to write this book. I love everything about you and am so proud of you!

  Stevey Joy

  Since the night you danced without Maria at the recital just nine days after she went to heaven, I’ve been so proud of your courage. I know that Maria is with you in your heart because Jesus is, and Maria is with Jesus! I love you. Thanks for kissing Mommy’s tears.

  Emily and Tanner

  October 4, 2008, the day you two were married, was a beautiful picture of the love of the Father. That we could celebrate while still missing Maria so desperately was truly a gift. I believe it was a taste of the spring that will truly come out of this hard winter season. Tanner, thanks for loving not only Emily, but our entire family selflessly during such a dark time.

  Caleb and Julia

  Caleb, when Will Franklin needed you most, you were there to hold him. God was with you and the strength He gave you was perfect! I know this is a story of great struggle that you will treasure as you allow Jesus to heal your heart. Julia, thanks for being right by Caleb’s side. You love him so well.

  I’m so thankful that on May 10, 2009, you became my daughter-in-law. Another sign that spring is continuing to bloom.

  Steven

  To my best friend and at times, worst enemy if we were to be honest: there are no words . . . I love you when we are on the same side and when we find ourselves on different sides. Thanks for being my biggest fan and cheerleader during this process. You believe more in me than I believe in myself. The foreword you so graciously wrote made me smile. It was way generous and kind. (That may have something to do with the fact that I sleep with you!) The words are proof that your love for me has been unwavering. Navigating our lives has not been for the faint of heart, and your heart has been that of a warrior, valiantly protecting his own family from an enemy who seeks to devour and destroy. God is good, even when things seem bad.

  Contents

  Foreword by Steven Curtis Chapman

  Prologue by Beth Moore

  1 Winter

  2 Not My Plan

  3 Coloring inside the Lines

  4 Tarzan and Jane

  5 When the Puppy Eats Your Birth Control Pills

  6 Smoke Signals

  7 “Ladies and Gentlemen, Please Welcome . . . Caleb!”

  8 I Will Be Here

  9 Crying in the Bathroom at Chuck E. Cheese

  10 My Friend Prozac

  11 With Hope

  12 Laughter

  13 When Love Takes You In

  14 Show Hope

  15 I’m Signing, You’re Signing, We’re All Signing

  16 Rambo Goes to China

  17 Fingerprints of God

  18 I Just Met a Girl Named Maria

  19 I’m Divin’ In!

  20 Cinderellas Everywhere

  21 February 20th

  22 May 21, 2008

  23 Not As It Should Be

  24 SEE

  25 Jesus Will Meet You There

  26 Sown in Tears

  27 Beauty Will Rise

  28 Goodbye . . .

  29 The New Normal

  30 “We Can Do Hard”

  31 The Unhappiest Place on Earth

  32 October 4, 2008

  33 Journaling, Blogging, and Sobbing

  34 Spring Breaks

  35 Ready or Not

  36 Balloons, Lady Bugs, and May 21

  37 New Songs

  38 Maria’s Big House of Hope

  39 Kissing the Fat

  40 Year Endings and New Beginnings

  41 Spring Is Coming

  Acknowledgments

  Photo Section

  Foreword

  Steven Curtis Chapman

  I’m going to start off with a little secret that you who hold this book in your hands are about to discover. Don’t worry – I’m not going to give anything away and you don’t need any “spoiler alerts.” For many years I’ve been known as “the writer” of the Steven Curtis/ Mary Beth Chapman duo. And while I’ve been known to pen a song or two, and maybe even a book or two (with a whole lot of help, believe me!), here’s the real, honest-to-goodness truth: Mary BethChapman is a way better writer than Steven Curtis . . . don’t tell anybody. No, actually, please tell everybody! The world needs to know, and I’m proud to be the first to tell them.

  When my wife reads this, I can picture her shaking her head and saying, “He’s just trying to be nice and encouraging.” But I am truly amazed at the way my wife is able to communicate what’s in her heart with such honesty and transparency. (Not to mention that she can write in thirty minutes what would take me about three days!)

  When Mary Beth’s blogs posted on my website began getting attention and someone first mentioned that she should write a book, I began cheering her on in that direction. Because I realized that one of the last things my wife ever planned or had the time to do was write a book, I cheered cautiously. But I knew if it was something God wanted her to do, it would speak powerfully and profoundly into the hearts of readers. She has a rare and beautiful gift to bare the pain, confusion, and questions that stir in her soul with a deep and raw honesty, and yet do it in such an inviting way. She also has a natural ability to have you laughing one moment and weeping the next as she takes you on the
journey into her heart and life.

  That’s what this book is about . . . a journey. Mary Beth’s journey, to be sure, but also the journey of faith that each of us who follow the unseen God is on. At the time this book is being written, I have had the incredible privilege of walking beside Mary Beth on her journey for twenty-six years. She has had enough twists and turns, surprises (wonderful and terrible), and peaks and valleys to fill several lifetimes . . . and she still looks amazing! (Hey, just look at the cover . . . hubba hubba!)

  For a while this book carried the working title of Mary Bethvs. God, which I still think would have been a very appropriate title. By her own confession, she has had a lifetime of watching God overwrite her plans with His story. Sometimes the result has been wonderful, and sometimes it has been devastating. Sometimes she’s been a willing participant, and sometimes she’s gone “kicking and screaming.” But in every case the process has been difficult at best. I’ve watched my wife wrestle with the providence of God in as real and honest a way as anyone I’ve ever known. And there has certainly been much to wrestle with. Great depths of pain and sorrow have marked the journey that my precious wife has traveled, and that is what has brought about the writing of this book.

  I must also say a heartfelt thank you to the wonderfully gifted Ellen Vaughn for taking the journey alongside Mary Beth in the writing process. Her skillful pen and tender heart have been vital to making this book a reality.

  I was reading a book recently by our dear friend Dan Allender. He talked about how for many Christians, sorrow and pain are seldom embraced by those experiencing it but rather “often denied or swept under the spiritual rug of ‘God’s sovereignty’ ” (The Healing Path, WaterBrook Press, 2000). Well, I can say that this book is written by someone who is deeply committed to not sweeping the pain or struggle under any such rug. While I know my wife to fully and desperately believe and trust in the sovereignty of God, I also know her – as you will come to know her in these pages – as one who is determined to be honest about the struggle. And I believe you will, along with me, be much richer for it.

  Finally, I want to say that this book and the hours Mary Beth has given to create it are part of a “sacred trust” that our family believes we were given on May 21, 2008, when our Maria was carried to heaven in the arms of Jesus. While it is very intentionally not a book primarily about our loss or grief, it is out of deep desire to see our God turn for good what Satan meant for evil (Gen. 50:20) that my precious wife has been willing to retake the difficult journey in writing it. A tremendous price has been paid to create the book you hold in your hands . . . it is a treasure. As her husband, I’m proud beyond words of her courage. And I sincerely believe you will be, as I am, very grateful that Mary Beth has invited us into her journey as she is choosing to SEE.

  Soli Deo Gloria.

  May 2010

  Prologue

  Beth Moore

  I’ve never been one to have meaningful dreams. Goodness knows it’s not from lack of trying. In the course of a forty-year relationship with God, I can’t think of many supernatural manifestations I knew He was capable of giving His children that I haven’t blatantly requested at one time or another. The way I saw it, what was the harm in asking? Couldn’t we all use some wonders from time to time? I figured God could always say no. And, by and large, He did. It became clear to me along the way, if not downright humorous, that God saw me in the category of people who were safer – both to themselves and others – sticking primarily with Scripture. That’s the way He most often reveals Himself to me. The Word has been my glorious wonder and an open Bible the center stage where I’ve watched Him perform and felt measures of His presence that were sometimes so strong, they were painful. Those are the moments I live for. I’ve heard other followers of Christ who seemed of sound mind and doctrine testify to experiences and giftings that I had no biblical grounds to deny. He just normally did things a different way with me.

  He still does. But something out of the blue happened to me several months ago. Something exceptional. Something I knew instinctively didn’t even belong to me. I had a dream for somebody else. I was not a participant in the unfolding scene. I was only there to watch. In my dream, I was backstage at an event center behind the usual black curtains. I could hear and feel the crowd in the seating area and knew that the event, whatever it was, had not yet begun. I did not feel anxious in my dream, as if I were about to go onto the platform. I was carefree and calm, like someone only there to observe. The gray concrete floor backstage was just like those I’ve seen numerous times. Thick black cables were gaff-taped to the floor in bunches. Men wearing headphones were huddled over the soundboard. Somebody else was adjusting the lights.

  That’s when I saw Mary Beth come around the corner. I instantly knew she was the one going onto that platform, but she was not going out there alone. She was going out with Maria, who was just to her right in a twirly skirt and a white, tucked-in blouse with a single ruffled collar. Her coal black hair was swept back in a matching headband with a chunk of her long bangs escaping and falling forward into her eyes. Mary Beth was trying to hold on tightly to Maria’s hand as the child sped in front of her and nearly pulled her over. One of the men backstage stopped Mary Beth to brief her and, all the while, Maria squirmed, giggled, turned, and kicked out her wiry little tan legs until her mother, typical of all who have an active charge, was nearly twisted into a pretzel. I could hear Maria laughing and I could see Mary Beth smiling.

  I felt myself smiling back and all the while staring, perplexed at my own frozenness. I sat completely still, as if one little twitch would make it all disappear. And then I woke up. My eyes sprung open, but otherwise I did not move a single muscle. My heart pounded and I felt butterflies in my stomach like something extraordinary had happened. I’ve had thousands of vivid dreams in the course of a long lifetime, but this was unlike any of the others. This one meant something. I was certain of that. This time God gave it to me. I was also certain of that. It was a tremendous departure for me, and even in those first few moments of alertness, I believed I knew a measure of what it meant. Part of my friend Mary Beth’s joy was going to be restored after the tragic loss of her darling Maria by telling her story as God Himself would unfold it. Her own healing would come in many ways as she ministered her pain and her hope. As she moved forward by faith with fresh vision, the memories of Maria’s playfulness and the echoes of laughter over her antics would little by little eclipse the images from the day of the accident. And I knew one more thing.

  I knew Maria was alive. Very, very much alive. Many of us believe in life after death by faith and by creed, but what shook me to the bone was that I also had the rare occasion to know it by sight. The thought never occurred to me that Maria had morphed into an attending angel of some kind or, worse yet, an unsettled apparition walking around holding Mary Beth’s hand until she was whole again. I knew in that moment that her happy, playful presence right next to Mary Beth in the dream was symbolic. She is joyous and whole and beautiful in God’s presence, but the Chapmans would again recover the gladness she’d ushered into their lives as they poured their fragrant, expensive offering before God, drop by heavy drop.

  I knew I had to tell Mary Beth, but I wasn’t sure how to approach a subject so tender, where even angels should fear to tread. As God would time it, her birthday offered me the perfect opportunity to touch base and ask her if we could talk soon. I still have the text conversation on my cell phone, and I delighted to discover that it was recorded right under several other texts she and I had exchanged over getting fresh highlights. I do dearly love being a woman. Here’s how the door opened to an encounter of titanic proportions for us both.

  Me to Mary Beth:

  Happy birthday, my darling sister! I am at a conference this weekend but I want to talk soon. I had a dream about you. I never have had a prophetic or meaningful dream but I had the strangest feeling this time. It was short but if it confirms something God is already telling you, it
would be worth me sharing it with you. I love you and am honored to sojourn with you.

  Several minutes later, Mary Beth back to me:

  Thank you so very much! So strange that you’ve had a dream . . . I’m anxious to hear as God has stirred and is doing so much . . . if only you knew . . . Let’s talk soon. I am so humbled to call you friend. Please pray for me as I come to your mind and I will you. Looking forward to a chat!

  A few days later, while I was on the way home from work, I got the courage to bring up her number on my cell and hit send. Steven grabbed her phone and answered it, “Mary Beth’s personal secretary, may I help you?” We laughed and teased back and forth a bit, then he handed her the line and the conversation ensued.

  “Mary Beth, as I told you in the text, I had a dream. And I don’t have dreams. Not the kind that mean anything, anyway. I mean, God has never spoken to me in a dream before in my entire life. But I think He did this time.”

  I was hedging. Not sure how to say it. I could hardly make the word “Maria” come out of my mouth because, after decades of interacting with women, I knew that the name of every lost child is sacred to the grieving mother. A person is wise to use it with great care and caution because the stab of pain it will invariably cause had better be worth it. I awkwardly made my way through the dream with a completely silent partner on the other end. When I finished telling her about it, I realized how brief it really was. It could only have lasted a few seconds but, when I had it, it seemed like everything moved in slow motion over the course of a half hour.

  “And that was it. My dream. Mary Beth, it was so real. I’m so sorry. I know it hurts, but I so hope God means it for some measure of healing . . .”

  Then she bawled. And I nearly bawled with her. When Mary Beth began to tell me with tears that, just prior to the night I received it, she had specifically asked God to let her see Maria in a dream, I had to pull the car over and park. My chin fell to the ground. God hit me with such a sense of awe that I could hardly form words, yet I had a knowing in my heart that I will never be able to understand.