Signs from Heaven: Faith in the Face of the Unthinkable

Sister Bay, {Door County} WI

Make no mistake. I know that we, the two of us, live an idyllic life. We have been blessed beyond reason to create a fairy tale existence, together. For the glorious summer season we are poised on a peninsular thumb that juts between bodies of water. We can see the evening sunset nightly over Green Bay. {The morning sunrise is just a couple mile trek over to Lake Michigan.} There are sailboats that careen about in front of our nightly splendor. It is quite the show. People arrive early with picnic baskets, visiting and appreciating and then clap as the sun makes a final kerplop below the horizon. I like to snap photos of this nightly interaction between water, clouds, sun and vessels. Who wouldn't? 

I don't know much about photography, nothing technical, but when you have a locale such as this, that is not absolutely required. In the midst of such breath-taking splendor even a point and click mentality yields amazing results. With digital freedom, take as many as you want! Something might just work. That's how I go about things. Show up. Snap. Snap. Snappity-snap. Straighten the horizon line. Crop artistically and then share. 

Yesterday was Tuesday. In my little world that means: moderate a Twitter-chat. Yet these are the last couple days of our northern haven before we jettison off to the other reality of our snowbird existence with palm trees in Florida. What to do? What to do? What to do?

My favorite sunset pictures involve clouds in the sky. That's where the amazing color comes from. Last night there wasn't a cloud to be seen. That was visible from our kitchen window a block away. I've taken several thousand cloudless, sunsets. They each resemble the other. Interchangeable. Indistinguishable. Unless there's a sailboat in proximity, you can just swap out one for the next. To be memorable, I've always thought that clouds were necessary. So I had talked myself out of walking the block to our marina perch. Instead I would focus my energy on my cyber-tweet friends. Or so I thought.

As I have been known to do, I argue with myself over a decision already made. "But this is your LAST opportunity to see the sun kerplop from home. Tweeting can wait. Hurry up now, before you miss the whole thing." (Whose voice was that?) So I went. Genuinely skipping down and around our corner. 

With my trusty little Cannon in hand, I was adjusting the settings as I was covering those last several steps. Always multi-taking. Not a sailboat in sight. Big orange orb. Been here. Done that. No expectations. Snapped a photo. Looked quickly at the snap and thought, "Oh no! Oh dear. What have I done? That is so DARK, I've hit the wrong setting." Fiddled around some more, choosing the 'right' camera setting and could then see with a quick review, that the photos I was then taking 'looked like' the sunset I was observing. What I could 'see' with my naked eye was then being captured. So I snapped a couple dozen and zipped back home for my newest installment of #TeacherFriends. 

Came back to TWEET town. Mission accomplished. Had my cake and ate it too.

Fast forward to this morning. Download photo from memory card. BEHOLD! 

Yes. Indeed it is dark. Yet in the midst of all that darkness there is an amazing light that shines. What shape does that light take in your life? Standing on the pier last night this vivid and emerging shape was indiscernible to my naked eye. I only became aware of this vision upon downloading the photos to my computer. 

Faith. What gets you through the unthinkable. The unimaginable. The unforeseen. 

Our son-in-law, Scott is a captain in the Ohio Air Guard. He has had many missions to Afghanistan, Iraq, Qatar and the like. He counts on his peers. We count on his peers to watch out for each other and for him. We expect that tight knit group to do their best to keep each other safe. Scott has a friend named Nathan who's been part of that team for years. Here is Scott's friend Nathan two years back on the happy occasion of his wedding. 

Imagine the fact that Scott's friend Nathan had flown with him numerous times. They had also deployed dozens of times in and out of war zones together. Successfully. Safely. Returning home to the open arms of their loving wives. 

Then Nathan, home state-side, was driving down the road with his sweet young bride to celebrate their second anniversary. Full of excitement and life and plans and joy and enthusiasm and goals and camping gear and a destination. They had a flat tire. In the midst of changing the tire, Nathan was struck by a vehicle and his life ended. Abruptly. Just a heartbeat ago. Just prior to his 30th birthday. Just like that. There are no words. No words adequate. 

Nathan's funeral and burial were yesterday in central Ohio. Following all of the solemnity of the occasion there was a celebration of his L*I*F*E. [The blond in the middle of all of the uniforms pictured below, with her head bowed, is our daughter.] 

"Every one of us is so lucky to have known Nathan, although it wasn't for enough time. It would never have been enough time," uncle Jeff Richeson said today. "But think of all the poor souls who never got to meet Nathan. That's tragic." Read more: http://ohne.ws/W8Jlwq or click picture from the Newark Advocate

Those of you that 'follow' me know that we have now had a total of three flat tires in the last 11 months in the course of our cross country jaunts. Three, actual, literal flat tires. That fact was not lost on me when my daughter called in tears to share the news. That number far exceeds the total number of flat tires I have experienced in the entire rest of my grand-motherly life. Having your tire go flat in the midst of whizzing by downtown Chicago is memorable. "There but for the grace of God go I." 

A flat tire ended this young hero's life. Unimaginable.

I took the sunset photo last night. Unbeknownst to me as to the power of the image. 

What does your faith say in the midst of the unthinkable? What is your compass at that point? What do you see in the midst of the darkest times?

In talking to my daughter this morning, literally while in the midst of downloading the photos, she was telling me all of the details of yesterday's service and the aftermath gathering which was the celebration of Nathan's life. About the folding of the flag. About the return to their homestead acreage. About the writing of final notes and tying them on to balloons. About the release of the balloons in the midst of.............. wait for it................. a RAINBOW!!! 

A sign from heaven. A rainbow. Nathan's rainbow. A promise.  

She was telling me of this unbelievable rainbow, with balloons lifting off through it and how all of these grown men in their service uniforms had glistening eyes anew, when at that very same moment, I finally SAW my photo from last night download. Kerplop.

As if a personal rainbow was not a sufficient 'sign from heaven' and a final thumb's up from Nathan in particular, I was gifted to capture this our final sunset of the season at the very same time. On the evening of Nathan's official departure from and celebration of his Earthly life, my camera took this picture. 

You do the math. 

The heartbreak of the unfairness of this planet is real. The unthinkable happens. The unimaginable transpires. Through it all, not necessarily observable by the naked eye. There is a light that shines. Here's the proof. 

P.S. Editor's note from the future: I was awakened in the middle of the night with an idea to honor Capt. Nathan. 

We are building up a group of teachers on Twitter to support one another. 

I will send each person my song, "Red, White and Blue" that requests it 

and gives me their email address. 

I will email the digital files to you via Dropbox. 

The details are on my Twitter account. 

@Kweezlequeen 

Here's the link to the Google Doc.