The Light

"The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it."  John 1:5

I mentioned before that I think a lot about where John is now and what his purpose is.  

I am reading a book right now called "Flight to Heaven," written by a man named Captain Dale Black.  The book is about a pilot that goes down in a terrible plane crash and ends up being the only survivor of three individuals.  During his time in the ER, Dale finds himself suspended above the operating room and watching the medical team examine him, totally detached from his body.  He experiences what he believes to be a glimpse at the after life.  There is a chapter in the book called "Celestial Perfection," that I have read quite a few times.   I read a few paragraphs to my dear friend Melissa while she was visiting and had a hard time getting through them without crying because I think Dale's experience is incredible, and all I can do when I read this is picture John.  I thought I would share.

"The flowers in heaven fascinated me.  Again, a delightful and delicate balance between diversity and unity.  Each was unique.  All were one, and they were beautiful to behold.  Each petal and leaf illuminated with that glorious light and added just the right splashes of color to the velvety expanse of green grass.  The grass, the sky, the walls, the houses, everything was more beautiful than I ever dreamed anything could be.  Even the colors.  They were richer, deeper, more luminescent than any colors I have ever seen in the farthest reaches of earth or in the most fantastic of dreams.  They were so vibrant they pulsated with life.  Each and every color, no matter how varied, took its color from the glistening whiteness that permeated heaven.  If millions of jewels had been gathered into one place and the brightest sunlight shone through them, it wouldn't begin to describe the colors I saw.  Heaven was filled with a rainbow of hues and provided me with a sensory feast.  

My eyes were next drawn to a river that stretched from the gathering area in the middle of the city to the wall.  It flowed toward the wall and seemed to end there.  The river was perfectly clear with a bluish-white hue.  The light didn't shine on the water but mysteriously shone within it somehow.  The entrance through the thick wall was breath taking.  The opening seemed filled with light that was the purest of white, yet it seemed to have countless hues that changed with even my slightest movement.  I was filled with excited anticipation of entering that beautiful gate.  I was immersed in music, in light, and in love.  

No one was recognized by the physical or social distinctions that we recognize on earth.  All were recognized by their spirit, the essence of who they were.  Everyone and everything was full of pure life and was connected to the light somehow, and everything that was connected led to God.  Part of the joy I was experiencing was not only the presence of everything wonderful but the absence of everything terrible.  There was no strife, no competition, no betrayal, no deception, no lies no murders, no unfaithfulness, no disloyalty, nothing contrary to the light and life and love.    

Vibrant life permeated everything.  All these weren't just around me, they were inside me.  And it was wonderful, more wonderful than anything I had ever experienced.  It felt as if I belonged there.  I didn't want to leave.  Ever.  It was as if this was the place I had been searching all my life to find, and now I'd found it.  The best unity I have ever felt on earth did not compare with the exhilarating oneness that I experienced with my spiritual family in heaven.  This love...God's love, was transforming.  To experience something so sacred, so profound as the boundless love of God was the most thrilling part of heaven.  It satisfied a longing in the deepest part of me.  I felt so special, you can't believe how special.  After all, all this was for me.  Everyone was there for me. 

 I had no idea what gift I was about to receive, but the anticipation on the faces of the people let me know that it was something extraordinary.   I felt like a kid again, like that fifth-grade kid who loved God.  Like that kid who used to look forward to Christmas like you wouldn't believe.  I couldn't wait to open the gifts that waited for me under the tree.  And I couldn't wait for the gift that waited for me now.  The music continued, such beautiful music, and I became even more excited.  It swelled and with it so did my anticipation."   Captain Dale Black

I believe this is a beautiful testimony to what awaits us after this life.  I believe that John has an understanding of the universe that I can't even begin to comprehend while I am here, I can only believe it to be true.  I've been asked a lot of questions about  my beliefs since losing John.  Am I a christian?  Does the God I worship condemn people to burn in hell?  Is the bible to be believed word for word?  I've had people even go as far as asking me if John accepted Jesus Christ before he died.  

Here is what I believe.  

I believe that John showed me unconditional love and faithfulness every day that we were together.  I felt radiated in love when I was with him.  I believe that John had a much better understanding of what life is about than I did.  This is why he wasn't attached to meaningless things and why taking advantage of every moment given to him was so important.  I believe that the experience of hell is merely earth itself.  Hate, greed, abandonment, sadness, sickness, loss, rage, pain.  We see this everyday.  Just watch the news for 5 minutes.  I believe that those moments of joy and happiness that we do find here on earth are a small glimpse of what is to come.  I believe that God showed his love to me through John everyday that we were together.  Most importantly, I believe that God loves John dearly.

Here on earth, I go to the woods to find John.  I look for him among the trees that create a safe haven for me as I walk and bike the trails, and the rays of sunlight that beam through the branches and warm my skin.  I seek answers when I am there, a better understanding, a deeper meditation where I can tap into him and pour out my heart to God.  In those silent walks and rides, I listen for him and search for that light.  I always leave the woods more calm, more at peace, with a better appreciation and respect for my creator, grateful for our time together among the trees.    

At the end of my life, I hope to tell God about what I've done with my life, and how I have loved.   To me, that is all that matters.  I know John had incredible answers to both of these questions, better answers than I do.   I believe that all religions or non-religions are important because each belief gives us teaching, guidance and a focus on living a purposeful life.  We all have the ability to love ourselves and give love to others .  To me, that is where the God I love can be found and where I can feel John.  

I believe this light that Dale Black talks about is within all of us and at the center of that light is unconditional love.  I think of John now completely beaming in this light with a huge smile and complete understanding.  John always wanted to live in places where he felt inspired everyday by the nature that surrounded him.  It makes me smile to think of the inspiration he must feel now, and the hope that I'll get to experience this with him someday.  

If what Dale Black experienced is true and I believe it to be, I can only look forward to this next life with anticipation and excitement.  I believe we all can.  For now though, I hope to find those small glimpses of heaven here on earth, reminding me of what is to come.

It Matters

"Death is nothing else but going home to God, the bond of love will be unbroken for all eternity."  Mother Teresa

It has been 2 ½ months since I left John and I’s home in Southern Oregon.   I started my new job on July 14^th and have been pretty busy ever since.  I am really grateful for the new job and to the leaders that hired me.  It has been challenging and keeps me really busy.  I work in Human Resources so a lot of time is spent helping and developing others.  I am finding that when I have to help others, it allows me to take the focus away from my new world, and for that, I am grateful.

Fayetteville, WV has been a blessing as well.  Fayetteville is a friendly small town, with a population of around 3000 people, nestled in the heart of the New River Gorge and the Gauley River.  I’ve never made friends anywhere as quickly as I have in Fayetteville.  When I am not at work, I spend a lot of time hiking or riding the trails with Jake.  When I want to talk to John, I go to the woods.  John and I spent a lot of time in West Virginia kayaking the New and Gauley rivers.  We loved this part of the country and always felt happy to spend a weekend here.  Now it is my new home.  This past weekend was the first Gauley weekend release.   Some of John and I’s closest friends came up for the weekend to kayak and support me through that mile stone.  I felt the tears well as I pushed off the river bank into the foggy river and hit the first wave train.  Once I made it down to a unique rapid called “Koontz Flume,” I decided to start singing through each wave hit the way John did when he spent time on the river.  It was amazing how much my surroundings seemed to change when this happened.  It was as if John was right beside me, guiding me through each rapid.  I started to smile by the time I got to “Canyon Doors,” looked up at the sky and blew my love a kiss, thanking him for reminding me that yes, kayaking is fun, and he is here through each line.  It was a good day on the river.

I often look up during the busyness of the day and wonder, how did I get here?  What happened to my beautiful life?   The homesickness I feel for my husband is beyond anything I could have imagined.  I can remember when John was in graduate school and I was working in Richmond.  We did that for two years.  I remember the way it felt when I wouldn’t see him for a couple weeks.  When we moved to Oregon, John and I spent a month apart so I could wrap up my current job and finalize our house selling plans.  That was excruciating. We spent time on google chat every night just so we could see each other’s faces, and Jakes of course.  I remember aching for him then while knowing I would see him soon.  There are no words to describe how this feels now.   I don’t know if there is a word worthy of describing it.  I was folding laundry in my basement on Monday before driving to Charlotte and looked up at a jacket of John’s that I hung up on the clothes line when I moved in so it would not get wrinkled.  I thought about how he wore that very jacket only 6 months ago and how handsome he looked in it.  I dropped to my knees in that moment of realization and felt my chest getting tighter, my vision get blurry, and my breathing increase.  He’ll never wear that jacket again, because he is no longer physically here and there is NOTHING I can do about it.  This reality makes me panic at times.  It is a hopeless feeling, and when I really allow myself to think about the reality of that situation, I can’t breathe.  This is a reality that I’ve realized is not going away.  While it does not define me, it truly is a part of me, and I have to figure out who I am supposed to be now with this loss.  The old me is gone, I said goodbye to her when I said goodbye to John.  So who am I?  These are questions that have come to light since moving back east, questions that may take a while to figure out, yet they must be answered.

There has been a lot of change in my life this year.  My parents recently divorced, my sister and brother in-law followed their dreams and opened up an art studio, I moved to the West Coast, I moved to the East Coast, my brother wrote his first book, I met Melissa Joyce (she saves me daily),  I switched jobs twice, I started playing music again, my family has come together, my family has fallen apart,  my husband died, my husband died, my husband died, my husband died.  Yet, people continue to live their lives, experience happiness, accomplish goals, they live.  I have to admit, I found this offensive at first.  Why is anyone going on?  John is gone, therefore my world has stopped.  Why has the entire world not stopped?  Home is where John is, so where is my home?   Happiness, love, laughter, personal goals, life.  All of these things for me lead to John, yet I have no way of getting to him while I’m here.  I can’t call him, see him, touch him, hear him.  I never will while I am here, and the feeling this brings to my heart, I have no words for.  Yet life continues, some days in zombie mode, but it continues, and what choice do we have?  What choice does anyone have?  Of course, the world continues onward and people left behind must keep moving. 

I have been thinking a lot about death lately.   From the moment I was told John was dead, I began to think about his new life and what this must be like for him.  I picture him the moment I wake up and I pray for dreams of him to come when I sleep.  I found and gave my life over to God when I was a senior in college and have felt his love ever sense.  I admit, my faith was questioned at the moment of John’s death and at the pain this caused not just me but his family and friends.  Watching what John's death has done to those that love him brings me to my knees at times.  But, through this incredible pain, I know God is present and I believe John is present.   

 I read a lot about those that have had near death experiences and I find their testimonies to be incredible.  There are hundreds of individuals throughout this world that have experienced what I think is a glimpse at the afterlife, and it blows my mind how similar these experiences are.   The most incredible similarity I have found in these readings, is that not one individual that went through this wanted to come back.  Some are actually upset when they realize they are back.  Many say that during this experience, the love they felt and the beauty they saw is beyond words.  There is nothing on earth that can come close to even comparing to it.  They didn’t want to come back.  I picture this perfection for John every day.  John’s grandmother called me the other day and told me that when she sees a beautiful mountain or river, it makes her sad to know that John isn’t here to see it.  I told her that what John see’s now I believe is magnificent and I know he can’t wait to show her.  It's more beautiful than any river or mountain we have ever seen.

What John’s grandmother and I feel sad for is the fact that we can’t have John physically here with us, standing beside us in those moments of complete beauty.  I am not sad for where he is and what I believe he is experiencing, I have a feeling he can’t wait to show me.  I don’t think any of us fully understand what comes next until our time comes.   

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”  Hebrews 11:1

No matter how unbearable this pain feels at times, and no matter how desperately I want to see John right now, I really do believe in the evidence of things not seen.  There have been too many moments where I felt him, and continue to feel the love of God.   I think of our reunion everyday, the substance of things hoped for.

So through the winds of change, we must continue to breathe, move and live.  For what choice do we have while we are here?  To me, making that choice every morning puts my faith into action, and it honors my husband John.   What we do here matters. 

Our Love and White Water

I remember when it happened.  That moment when I realized, I am a kayaker.  The first time I paddled out into the currents of the James River in Richmond, Virginia, I had countless feelings.  Excited, terrified, wobbly, inexperienced, happy, alive.  I was new to the sport and had no idea what the world of white water had to offer me and the paths I would cross during my time in the current. While there were so many unknowns, one thing was certain, I wanted to know this sport and become one with it. 

It reminds me of how I felt when I saw John Wilburn.  I remember the first time I locked eyes with him.  The sounds of the band around me seemed to fade.  Others became foggy as he shook my hand and looked down at me with those warm blue eyes.  The next day, there we were, side by side kayaking down the James River. 

I remember when it happened, the moment.  It's when I decided to follow John down the James River.  I tried to mimic his graceful lines as best as I could and trust his movements.  It was then that I became a kayaker, and the incredible adventure of paddling beside him began. 

I had been kayaking with John for almost 6 1/2 years.  He was my husband, my best friend, my boating companion, and the most graceful kayaker I've had the pleasure to watch and learn from.  Our mutual love for paddling and each other took us to beautiful rivers all over the country.  We found ourselves side by side exploring rivers in Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Tennessee, Colorado, Washington, Oregon and finally, Northern California. 

Once we witnessed the rolling green mountains of Southern Oregon, it was over.  We knew we had to live there, and so in August of 2013, we packed up our lives and ventured out west hand in hand.  Words cannot describe the beauty we witnessed out there.  Crystal clear rivers, cascading water falls, lush green forest, everyday we felt inspired.

On John's last day with me, he looked at me right before the last 50 yards towards the river and said, "I'll see you soon muffin."  I'll never forget the smile on his face and the excitement he had for what was to come.  John was happy that day, excited for another adventure, he was a kayaker. 

As we approach the first Gauley release next weekend, I want to share his story with you, and his complete love for the adventures of white water kayaking.  His story is so important, and his way of living is something I think we can all take with us.  We'll be better because of John.  I want you to see the river from John's eyes, experience the lines from his movements, and feel his excitement and appreciation for the beauty that surrounds him in every rapid.  I hope you take John's love with you on the river this Gauley season and everywhere.  I hope you feel him every time you push off into the current and remember him.  Just look around and see the beauty you are surrounded by, he is there.

In Memory of John Duncan Wilburn

http://vimeo.com/104943083