And the Beat Goes On

May 11, 1977, our youngest child, Mark Nathan Betters, was born. Who knew that in that very year, God was preparing a treasure to give us in our personal darkness thirty-eight years later? Mark was the baby we weren't supposed to have. After the birth of our son, Daniel, my doctor warned Chuck that any more pregnancies could endanger my life and with great concern, urged him to make sure I didn't get pregnant again. Nine months later, I exclaimed to my doctor, "How can I be pregnant?" Slowly shaking her head, she responded, "You're not the Virgin Mary. I think you know how you got pregnant!" 

There was no discussion about what to do about this pregnancy. I was pregnant and delighted, trusting that the Lord had a bigger plan than we could imagine. This was my easiest pregnancy and recovery after a C-section. Mark was a sweet, compliant baby, easily fitting in with our other three children and busy lives. Sixteen years later, three of our children were well on their way into adulthood.Within a two week span we celebrated Heidi's upcoming marriage to Greg, son Chuck's college graduation and son Dan's high school graduation. And Chuck and I looked forward to focusing our full attention on son Mark's last two years of high school. He was an athlete and we knew our social lives would revolve around his activities and we were glad. 

Instead, on July 6, 1993, our youngest child, Mark, and his friend, Kelly, died in a car accident ten minutes after they left our home.

I share my grief journey in my book, Treasures in Darkness, a Grieving Mother Shares Her Heart.

You would think that over twenty-two years later, we would be accustomed to living without our precious son. And yes, we have found that "new level of normal" and God has given us incredible treasures in the darkness just as He promises in Isaiah 45:2-3:

I will give you treasures in the darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you will know I am the Lord your God, the One Who calls you by name.

But still...I miss Mark. And wonder what our life would be like if he were still here.

That's why I'm grateful that over twenty-two years later,  in the very private dark abyss of grief, God still surprises us with a love tap, a love note, that reminds me that He knows every tear and even saves them a bottle. He sees me when I hear the faint whistle of the train of grief approaching. He watches as I step into a private space, take a deep breath, wipe my fleeting tears, and then move back into a family gathering, with a joyful smile, and choice to engage in the alternating raucous laughter and quiet conversations. And in the middle of it all, at the most unexpected moment, He sends me a treasure and He whispers secrets in my ears, each one designed to help turn my heart toward Him, to remind me that He calls me by name, and that He is the Lord my God. This year, He sent that surprise package He started preparing for us, way back in 1977.

The week before Mark's death, Mark found and bought his dream drum set. A gorgeous white and silver used set, owned by a former drummer whose wife wanted to transform his music room into a nursery. The set included every drumming instrument a drummer could want and more. Mark couldn't stop grinning as his Dad and he carried the drums down into the basement. Mark spent hours setting up the drums and we still have nail pops in our ceiling that seemed to keep time with the pounding those drums took as Mark made them his own. The night of his death, Mark, his friends and brother practiced in our basement for an upcoming concert. Mark loved the drums and they loved him. That's why during our first Christmas without Mark, we received numerous Drummer Boy ornaments and The Little Drummer Boy became our Christmas song. 

Over the years, precious friends have given us Drummer Boy momentoes. Every Christmas, hanging those ornaments on our tree moves me to tears of thanks for those who have loved us in this special way. Treasures in the darkness that helped turn my heart toward Him.

That's why it's hard to believe we did not know that the very year Mark was born, 1977, Hallmark's annual Christmas Collectible tree ornament was a drummer boy. 

I love everything about this sweet drummer boy, from his black boots to his brown hair and most of all that our son's wife, Laura, found it for me. God gives treasures in the darkness, designed to turn my heart toward Him and to remind me of His character, that He is the Lord my God, the One Who calls me by name. And though Hallmark designers had no clue the Lord was directing their steps in 1977 so that a broken hearted mother would be comforted by their design, I have no trouble believing the Lord had me in mind!

But that ornament isn't the only special Drummer Boy ornament I received this year. Last week a package marked fragile arrived. The return address was damaged a little so I could only see it was sent by Karen from Middletown, Delaware. The enclosed two page,hand written letter was signed, Your sister in Christ, Karen. I wish I knew how to reach Karen from Middletown! She shared in her letter that she found my book, Treasures in Darkness, at Goodwill. As she read it, she noticed similarities between her family and ours. Her 21-year-old brother died in a motorcycle accident in the 1970's. Her family was profoundly changed by the loss of her brother. Her mother died of breast cancer and ten years later, on the same date and in the same hospital room, her father died of a heart attack. I hope that someone who knows Karen from Middletown, will help me connect personally with her!

But that's not the end of the story. She also shared, "In your book you mentioned collecting Drummer Boy tree ornaments because Mark played the drums. I came across this recently and bought it for you -from Goodwill). Enclosed in the box was a Drummer Boy Christmas ornament music box, that plays The Little Drummer Boy.

Even the sticker, "Fragile, Handle with Care" spoke volumes to me. Each treasure reminds me that God has equipped me for this pathway. It's not the one I would choose. But in some strange, supernatural way, these unexpected gifts take me closer to Him and help me take the next step in this pathway that He has designed for me. Though my life is full of joy and purpose, I desperately miss Mark. I am eager to see him, to know what he's been up to these past twenty-two years. I have a feeling that playing his drums for Jesus has been a part of Mark's eternal life. And while I'm waiting for that reunion, I hope I get to meet Karen from Middletown!
In His grip,
Sharon

P.S. Are you struggling with seeing those "treasures in the darkness?" You might find something helpful in our  Free Grief Resources