Kristina Lunde

The Lord is my strength and my song.
Psalm 118:14a

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August 20, 2016 by Kristina Lunde Leave a Comment

Frozen in Time: A Widow’s Final Goodbye

1999 Avalanche Disaster

In October of 1999, forty year old mountain climber Alex Lowe and twenty-nine year old expedition cameraman David Bridges died in a Himalayan avalanche. Along with fellow alpinist Conrad Anker, they set out that morning to analyze the south face of Shishapangma, a Tibetan peak. Six other expedition members, farther back from the three scouts in the lead, were spared the sudden, crashing torrent of ice and snow. Seriously wounded and partially buried, Conrad pulled himself out of the avalanche’s aftermath and participated in the desperate, but ultimately futile, two day search for Alex and David.

Back in Montana, Alex’s widow Jenni had only verbal reports, along with her own climber’s instinct and intuition, to confirm her husband’s mortality. No physical proof of a life ended. No lifeless body to authenticate the finality of death. No tangible validation of a life ended and grief begun.

Shock. Explaining to three young children, family, loved ones. Grief. Mourning. All without a body to say goodbye to. Etching, scraping, and climbing through grief and loss to survive. Adjusting to a family that was tragically minus one. Preserving a father’s love and legacy.

Jenni and her boys were later joined by new husband and stepfather Conrad Anker. Bound by the pain of Alex’s loss, they built a new family together over the months, years, and decade-plus that passed.

2016 Mournful Recovery

Sixteen years later, in April of 2016, came the chance for a final goodbye in the flesh, after Alex’s and David’s bodies were found on the mountain.

Bodies preserved, long after lives were lost to a frigid end. Lives claimed by the mountain, now brought to the surface by glacial melt. A potential grief ambush of torrential proportions revealed by the sun’s light. The emotional trauma of facing the proof of a life vanished, the irrefutable evidence of widowhood, and the harsh reality of all that was lost.

Ice melted. Grief revisited. Goodbyes offered. Mourning renewed. Time to review, admire, and remember both Alex’s and David’s lives. An opportunity to mentally journey back and reflect honor on husband, father, friend, and climber.

Widow to Widow

Dear Jenni Lowe-Anker,
May God give you His strength and comfort as you face this mountain. May the melting ice give way to precious memories, love remembered, and a husband honored. May your grief be less about ambush and more about resolution. I pray that this reviewal will refresh your family’s precious memories of Alex. May the light of God’s son bring peace and closure, rest and nostalgia, hope and renewal. I pray that your widow’s heart not be torn, but instead that your love for Alex will be celebrated and commemorated, even as you continue on with the love of the second half of your life.

Prayers for God’s blessings on you and your family.
Kristina Lunde, a fellow pilgrim on the journey through grief

Filed Under: Grief Tagged With: Alex Lowe, grief, Jenni Lowe-Anker, widow

September 28, 2015 by Kristina Lunde 1,269 Comments

Ruth Olson’s Legacy

Ruth Olson died peacefully on January 19, 2015 after her long journey through metastatic breast cancer. How fitting that such a devoted advocate for pregnant mothers and unborn babies died the night after Sanctity of Human Life Sunday.

Poured out onto her family, church, community, and beyond, Ruth’s lifelong gifts of service are a legacy worth commemorating. In honoring Ruth, we honor the God who infused her with trailblazing talents, ministry leadership, and a passion to share Jesus’ love.

A memorable impression of Ruth was her rich, full soprano singing voice and the excitement she brought to praise and worship gatherings. Ruth sang like a soloist, with the vibrato, projection, and descants of a soprano star, but she stayed focused on the God she was praising. In the early 1970s, as a distracted kid looking around at church members singing with closed eyes, I curiously noticed that the adults, Ruth included, were focused on worship and purposeful about the lyrics. Ruth never knew that she had at least one kid marveling at how her vibrato worked.

Ruth was a trailblazer in many different aspects of her life. In a generation where tradition dictated that women should not wear long hair after age forty, Ruth kept her wavy black hair long and full. Not until decades later, after many rounds of chemotherapy, did Ruth keep her salt and pepper waves above shoulder length.

In ministry and otherwise, Ruth always functioned with her husband Jerry’s support and collaboration. Whether they counseled families together or he backed her outreach to women, Ruth and Jerry were partners in their service to God. Occasionally, couples would show up at the Olson’s house at 10:30 at night, desperate for marriage counseling. Jerry and Ruth would drop everything, offer their hospitality, and pour God’s love into hurting lives, no matter who came to their door. When they weren’t ministering at night, the Olsons occasionally chased their cows that had escaped the fenced pasture. As a child, my impression of Jerry and Ruth was that they were night owls – dealing either with angry couples or wayward cows.

Long before the ease of clip art, printing a bulletin involved hours of typing up stencils and making mimeographed copies. As church secretary, Ruth often drew unique little pictures to add to the bulletin. Her gifts of organization, artistic skills, and heartfelt writing blessed many people in her role of secretary, and also in her later life roles of pastor’s wife, counselor, speaker, and author. Using church bulletins, newsletters, and her self-published books, Ruth continued to communicate her faith and love for Jesus through the printed word.

Many women’s groups were blessed by Ruth’s ministry of speaking and teaching God’s Word. My mother’s role was to sit in the back row and intercede for God’s truth and blessing during these events. After the message, Ruth would spend hours ministering to women one-on-one: listening, encouraging, and praying with them. My mother returned from those outreaches exhausted, wondering how Ruth could continue to give so much to so many, especially the additional ministry after she spoke.

Although Ruth focused her ministry on local outreaches, such as founding a pregnancy assistance center in Red Wing and speaking at Women’s Aglow meetings, her Gentle Doves ministry reached far beyond the region. Ruth’s goal in writing Gentle Doves, a Christian newsletter, was to encourage women in their walk with the Lord. The monthly magazine contained articles on topics as varied as end-time prophecy, pro-life perspective, and household helps. In the late 1980s, my parents used a dot matrix printer to print address labels. Then they gathered with other volunteers at their dining room table to label and sort the mail by hand. At its peak, the newsletter was mailed out to over 1500 people in the United States and internationally. Ruth later expanded the Gentle Doves magazine to an online presence with Bible studies, articles, book descriptions, and her blog.

Before self-publishing was easy or common, Ruth self-published several books and made them available during her speaking presentations. Ruth’s last book chronicled her adjustment to the diagnosis of breast cancer from her perspective as a retired registered nurse. She shared what she learned, her selfless motivation evidenced by the title, My Gift to You: Encouragement During a Cancer Crisis. The long journey Ruth faced through breast cancer and subsequent bone metastasis became her ministry outreach to those facing the same diagnosis. Her calm dignity and constant focus on Jesus’ love for others were the hallmarks of her approach to cancer.

When her health declined and she could no longer attend speaking engagements, Ruth’s heart for ministry never wavered. Recently, she focused her efforts on personally supporting, and raising money for, impoverished families in Africa. One of her last outings, as breathing and walking were an obvious struggle, was spent wiring monetary support to an African pastor.

Ruth lived her life pursuing God’s work and ministering wherever God called her. May Ruth Olson’s legacy inspire us to passionately serve the amazing God she loved and lived for.

[Originally posted February 2015]

Filed Under: Grief Tagged With: eulogy, grief, legacy

September 28, 2015 by Kristina Lunde 1,476 Comments

Brynn’s Big Girl Moment

Dear Brynn’s Mom,

Thank you so much for taking the time and energy to bring your daughters to AWANAs, our Wednesday night church program. What a blessing that you share your precious girls with us!

Your three year old Brynn is making a big adjustment to let go of you for the evening, although she likes having her sister there for support. I volunteer with Cubbies, the program for three to five year olds that both of your daughters participate in. I have three year olds in my small group, so I spend most of the evening with Brynn.

Brynn gets my attention with a gentle tap on my arm that she repeats. Tap. Tap. Tap. She then announces, “I miss my Mommy.” Wisps of white blond hair surround her cherubic face as she puckers her lip, trying not to cry.

“Of course you do.” I always try to validate her feelings before I offer my hand and present the next activity. “Your mommy will be back later, but first, let’s go to our big group time and sing.” Brynn likes to hold my hand as we walk through the hallways. She quickly distracts from her sadness and readily engages in the next activity.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Brynn gets my attention after the activity to declare, “I miss my Mommy!” Again, the quivering lower lip accompanies attempts to swallow instead of cry.

“Yes, Brynn, your mommy will be here later.” I point out Brynn’s big sister, who is on her way to the classroom, and urge, “Let’s go hear our Bible story!”

Last month, Brynn was the first to raise her hand for a question, eagerly proclaiming, “Christmas is when Jesus was born!” Her smile was huge, her confidence unshakable, her assurance contagious. May God keep her faith deeply rooted and ever-developing.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Again Brynn’s rallying almost-cry, “I miss my Mommy!”

Again, Brynn reaches for my outstretched hand and melts my heart with her angelic hazel eyes. I try to encourage her. “Your mommy is coming back soon, but let’s go learn our Bible verse, hear our Apple Acres story, and color.”

Our group of three year olds learns a weekly Bible verse, usually four to ten words long, which we practice as a group. Brynn loves to learn the verse, and is usually one of the first girls to offer to recite the verse alone from memory with her bold, “I want to say it by myself!”

As we transition between activities, I often get the familiar tap, tap, tap followed by Brynn’s “I miss my Mommy!”

My responses are similar. “Yes , you will see her soon, but let’s go to the gym . . .watch the Cubbie Bear puppet show . . . have our music time . . . first.”

Before Christmas, I had the honor of holding Brynn’s purple butterfly headband for gym time. I soon put the headband down, along with my reading glasses, so that I could join in the fun. The group of three to five year olds (and a few of us older ones acting that age) laughed, walked hesitantly, and even ran as we balanced a jingle bell on our head across the gym. As always, when I looked over at Brynn in the middle of the group, she was smiling and having fun.

In our group time afterwards, when Miss Becky asked the name of the baby who was born at Christmas, Brynn was the first to enthusiastically call out “Jesus.” Oh Lord, may Brynn always be first to call on Jesus’ name and may that be her strength and hope in life. God, please build in her a great faith that touches others with Jesus’ love.

Toward the end of that night, I felt the usual tap, tap, tap. Before I said anything, Brynn looked up at me with her sweet face and triumphantly exclaimed “I don’t miss my Mommy!” Brynn’s big girl moment: she could relax and enjoy the evening, convinced that you would be there for her afterwards.

Reflecting on Brynn’s lesson later, I thought of my grief journey after my mother died two years ago. I would often say out loud, “I miss my Mom!” and then cry in mournful remembrance. Recently, my pain and sadness in remembering my mother have transitioned to nostalgia and love. Brynn’s big girl moment was a meaningful illustration for me. In Brynn’s adjustment to living life, having fun, and being reassured that her mother will be there at the end, I found an illuminating example of how to cope with my own sadness.

Using Brynn’s big girl words of confident hope, I prayed similar words to God: I don’t miss my Mom! I know that I will see her again later – in heaven.

Brynn’s Mom, thank you so much for the gift of letting your sweet daughter teach me a lesson about eternal life and God’s reassurance.

[Originally posted January 2015]

Filed Under: Grief Tagged With: AWANA, Christmas, grief, letter, mother, separation anxiety

September 28, 2015 by Kristina Lunde 1,172 Comments

Ten Year Sadiversary

Dearest Lee,

Ten years ago today, our lives changed forever.

Ten years ago today, I did CPR (cardiopulmonary resuscitation) on you after you slumped over. I watched paramedics work on you, move you out of the house on a gurney, and take you to the hospital. The medical staff was unable to revive you after trying everything, and you were pronounced dead on January 7, 2005. Both of our lives split off in different directions after your sudden heart attack – yours celestial, mine earthly – in a separation neither of us chose.

The ten year sadiversary.

Never thought I would make it one week without you, let alone one decade. Now it seems like multiple decades, at least a lifetime ago. You were my husband, my parenting partner, the love of my life.

Our mighty God pulled me up out of the mire of grief and pain, and set me on the rock – just like Psalm 40:1-3 describes. God helped me rely on THE rock – the stable rock of His Word, His character – the rock of who He is.

Like Psalm 40:3 says, “He put a new song in my mouth.” Yes, I am singing and joyful again, although widowhood was a painful adjustment. It’s a long story — two books actually. I have no idea if God let you see the process; I just hope that you missed the awful part of our grief and mourning. The three of us love you so much; it took a long time and lots of help to adjust to losing you so suddenly.

Single, or only parenting as widowed people call it, was tough. I did my best, but it was not a smooth journey. (Hopefully, God did not show you all of that, either.) God helped me every step of the way; His comfort and guidance brought me back to living life again.

Do you know that I remarried seven years after you died? Who would think of having two husbands in one lifetime?! Very different, but I am grateful to God for the blessing of new love. You were the love of the first half of my life; Craig is the love of the second half of my life. Sometimes I am surprised that my life is so similar: loving my husband (OK, it’s a different husband, but it’s what I do) and family,  nurturing my kids, and volunteering in my church and community. I start my day in God’s Word and maintain similar priorities as before you died.

Except for the parenting stuff, that is. Our kids (seems strange to call them “our” kids after the painful adjustment to “my” kids) do their own homework, driving, and activities now. You would be so proud of them – but you wouldn’t recognize them as teenagers! They have changed so much and are well on their way to becoming incredible, unique adults. Craig is God’s gift to help me deal with teenagers;  he inspires me to be a much better parent than I was alone. I have adjusted to, and really appreciate, my new parenting partner.

Please do me a favor and thank Jesus personally for His death on the cross. What a gift that is to all of us! (I suppose that you never take that for granted up there.) Also, please thank God for the comfort and healing He gave me. What a turnaround God led me through after that horrible night ten years ago. . .

Maybe I’ll tell you all about it some celestial day.

[Originally posted January 2015]

Filed Under: Grief Tagged With: grief, letter, sadiversary, single parenting, widow

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