The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet with his love; He will sing joyfully over you. Zephaniah 3:17
I was asked to share my life story/testimony at our church women’s retreat this weekend. Honestly, I did not want to and was very begrudging at how God openly pulled me in that direction. As I began to prepare, I was again blown away at remembering HIS glorious goodness to our family as HE alone has carried us through hard things. I also want to note that this is not shared to solicit pity or say poor me but rather to bring glory to how God has been our provision!
Here is what I shared.
I was raised in a Godly home, with parents who taught me about God answers our specific prayers and modeled having a personal relationship with Jesus and what it meant to follow his word.
I graduated from high school early, and soon went to Rosedale Bible Institute in Ohio where I had an Iowa roommate and unknowingly met my Iowa husband to be, who was in a room I apparently entered while trying to round up people for an activity. He vividly recalls thinking I was the most obnoxious girl ever.
After Rosedale, My roommate, Kari Kemp McGaffey, insisted I move to Iowa so we could be closer, so I very spontaneously moved to Iowa for what I intended to be for 1 year, to fill the last minute position as kindergarten teacher at Pathway Christian School. That was 30 years ago last fall. About 2 years in, I started dating her cousin after begging God for quite some time, that He, being the handsome hunk he was, would notice me and eventually he did. We talked marriage on the 2nd date, were engaged at the 3 month mark, and married on the 9 month anniversary of our first date.
We settled happily into married life, and hoped for God to bless us with babies before too long. Soon after we married, we packed up and headed to help with a mission in Haiti for a year. We survived Y2K, getting robbed and me being very sick with malaria. We had a several hour drive to the mission hospital and on the way there my temperature topped out at 104. I was so sick and unable to communicate. I do recall trying hard to tell Lowell that if I died, I really wanted him to take me home to Iowa to bury me. He could not understand what I was trying to say and at about that moment, I remember an old Southern Gospel song suddenly blaring through my mind. It went like this.
“God likes to work when your back’s to the wall
When faith’s in the balance and you’re just about to fall
So there’ll be no mistaking when HE blesses and heals….
God likes to work when nothing else will”
Lowell says I started making noises and I do remember trying to sing, but nothing was coming out except maybe a humming. God did step in and heal me as I am obviously still here and didn’t have to come back to Iowa in a coffin.
Soon after our 3rd anniversary, we came back to Iowa where I worked various jobs..Pathway, Pleasantview, Walmart, Babysitting, waitressing and fun fact… I was part of a team that got an award for being the fastest McDonalds drive thru in the region.
Then we officially entered God’s waiting room where we waited and waited on babies.
The infertility season was hard.
Several years went by and I kept reading in Psalms 127 where it says how children are a gift from the Lord and in Psalms 113 where He settles the barren women in her home as a happy mother of children. I repeatedly asked God where my blessings were and why he wasn’t answering my deepest desires of motherhood.
We contemplated adoption and had discussed going to get a little girl in China. Instead we bought the restaurant I had been managing in hopes of fun times together since parenthood wasn’t happening for us.
What we didn’t know is that I would get pregnant the very week we signed the papers. We still didn’t know when I got on an airplane to go see my sister in Phoenix for my 30th birthday. I vomited most of the way from Iowa to Denver. The flight attendant finally brought me a big black garbage bag with coffee in the bottom and asked me if I was pregnant. I shook my head. When we landed and I went to exit she says, “oh honey, are you SURE you aren’t pregnant because you sure look pregnant to me”. I responded quickly with “oh no! There’s no way. It’s not possible for my husband and I”….
But after slurping pepto bismal all weekend, I thought I would take a test just in case. Now let me tell you, I should have bought stock in pregnancy test companies. I had not ever had a positive test until early that Monday morning. And just so we never forget God’s miraculous provision, I actually have that pregnancy test in a shadow box on the picture wall in my kitchen.
I went on to have a high risk pregnancy and a major surgery for a torsioned ovary in my 7th month. I spent the rest of the time on bed rest and drove myself to the hospital on several occasions because poor Lowell was so incredibly busy trying to keep the restaurant afloat. I would drive in, get whatever meds I needed at the moment, to grow baby’s lungs or stop labor, lay there a few days, then drive myself home. I did a lot of feeling sorry for myself during those months and was so lonely with no family close. Then on February 22, 2006 at 36 weeks I gave birth to a healthy tiny precious baby girl Kali Ruth. It was a magical time and we thought we had our one and only miracle only to find out when she was 7 months old, that Hunter was on the way, followed closely by the news of Lexi.
During my pregnancy with Lexi, our life fell apart. We lost everything that was physically ours including the business, our home, van, friends, our dignity and our marriage. We moved into an old house that had snakes in it. I stayed home with the older 2 and fielded calls from creditors threatening to come take my husband to jail. Lowell was angry, which I now realize was his response to feeling that he was a complete and utter failure who could not provide for his family. I was super hormonal and cried all the time. Our family was in shambles. We ended up separating and I moved 1000 miles away to live with my parents in South Carolina while we sifted through the rubble of what had been us. Though we did not separate with the intention of divorce, I did not know if it was possible for God to salvage what was so very broken.
But OUR God is a miracle working God who specializes in restoration and healing of broken people. After 11 long months apart we were reunited and our work in progress marriage continues growing to this day. This summer we will celebrate 28 years.
That season, though one of the most difficult to that date, was a time when I felt God’s presence in the most tangible ways and sensed him molding and shaping both me and Lowell. He has allowed our story to be a tool for helping others who are struggling. We have enjoyed hosting marriage events in our living room several times a year for the past few years and we continue to learn how to grow in our own relationship though we are far from perfect! And we always remind people that if God could fix our marriage, there is not a marriage out there that He can’t help!
Immediately upon our reconciliation, I got pregnant with our honeymoon baby as we dubbed her. Abby Marie was a teeny tiny big spirited person and we had 3 of the best years together as a family of 6. In 2012, God gifted us with 3 months of precious uninterrupted family time when Lowell broke both of his heels in a work accident and had to stay home with us.
Then came July 14, 2014.
It was the first warm enough to swim day of summer and Lowell had filled our small pool the night before. All 4 children excitedly gathered their things and headed out to get into the water. I was super busy that morning and actually ignored the prompting to go out and check on them. I hurried to my office to quickly finish a few projects when I hear the door open and Lexi who was 5, said the words I will never get out of my head. “Mama you need to come, Abby died.”
That moment started the nightmare that never ends. Aircare landed and doctors worked on her on our back deck for over 20 minutes then transported her to UIHC. 21 hours later and about 30 minutes after my parents and sibling arrived, we made the agonizing decision to disconnect life support. The small ICU room was filled with family and friends, and some God sent people we did not even really know. We softly sang “Safe in the arms of Jesus…” and prayed quietly, committing her back to the Jesus who had gifted her to us. What I did not notice at the time was the group of muslim staff standing in the hallway observing us. A friend later told me they kept peering at our faces and looking puzzled. She explained that her experience had been that death in the muslim community was filled with loud crying and terror at the lack of hope. In the midst of our grief God was sharing a visible gift with others who needed Him.
Then we began the longest week ever waiting for the autopsy.
I wrote about her death on my blog ( https://dorothymiller.org/abby/ )
We planned a funeral.
I passed out at the viewing where over 1200 people came to wish us well.
We were numb.
A few weeks later as I sat at her grave, I looked up at the beautiful blue sky and told God I just didn’t know about the reality of him. I reminded Him how I had faithfully served him and told him I just couldn’t fathom why he would do something so horrific like taking my baby girl away. I told him about how I didn’t know if he was really real or that Heaven was a real place. I asked if he could give me a sign letting me know he was real, that there was life after death, and that Abby wasn’t just done under that cold pile of dirt.
As I looked around, through my tears, I saw a used to be white rose that someone had moved from the casket spray and stuck into the mound of dirt. I began to pull on it and as it slowly emerged from the ground, the stem grew greener and greener and at the very bottom a small fresh new green leaf unfurled as it hit the light of the sun. In that moment, God said “look at the life in this rose you thought was dead. Just like the flower, Abby is not gone but with me and you will see her again. And I am really with you…”
I of course began to weep and thank God for showing himself in such real ways in direct answer to the prayers I had prayed just a few minutes prior.
We had a social worker connected to us from the hospital. She called often to check in on us. One day I was sharing with her about how encouraging it had been to hear from people around the world who had come to faith in Jesus after reading our story on my blog (which actually hit over 50,000 views.) I do not know if she was a person of faith but I have often thought since that she may have been with the ways she interacted with us. That day she said, “Dorothy you have no idea. Your blog has been printed off and is being shared all over the hospital.” So, God in his providence gave me a platform that I really didn’t want, to share his story in ways with people that I would have had no connection with otherwise.
About a month into our journey of grief, Kali came in one night and told me she had thought about jumping out of the hayloft in the barn so that she could die and go be with Abby and Jesus. The social worker told me that if I did not get therapy quickly for all of my kiddos, that she would be forced to admit Kali to the psych ward.
I set out looking for a Christian based therapy place and found a local organization that got me in a few days later. The kids played with toys as I shared our story with the counselor, barely able to get words out through my heaving sobs. As I finished, she looked at me and asked what I wanted from her services. I told her I wanted someone to walk through the trauma with my kids, that had a faith based perspective so that I could trust that Jesus would be a part of their healing and so that I would not have to hospitalize my 8 year old.
I will never forget my horror when she told me she did not have any trauma certifications and that no one in their office did either and therefore they could not help me. She directed me to a secular psychiatrist telling me there was nothing in this field that was Christian and faith based. I drove home and took another dive through the yellow pages where I found Cornerstone Christian Therapy. The sweet lady upon hearing my brave blubbering attempt asking for help, assured me that they had the perfect fit and soon I was sitting in a meeting with Kendra Bailey. She sat listening with compassion, tears rolling down her face. I asked if she had the proper trauma training stuff to help us and could have danced when she assured me that she could and would gladly walk with us. That was over a decade ago, and my kids still all see Miss Kendra as needed.
I have often said I don’t know how I could have raised my kids without her help. She has helped us navigate the tough conversations like why did our Abby have to die so people could get saved? By the way, Lowell was one of those salvations and his life is a true testimony of the changes Jesus brings. I have had a very different husband for the past decade. Another tough question was, why didn’t God hear our daily prayer for his protecting angels? Kendra has been such a Godsend and has always used her gifts to point our family towards Jesus.
Now, Our family life is broken into 2 basic segments.
When Abby was alive AND us after her homegoing.
Divorce numbers are astronomical after couples bury a child. It has not been easy as we all grieve very differently, but God has been faithful and we have stayed married.
The other big thing has been my health. Nearly all mothers who have lost a child encounter failing health in sometimes bizarre ways. I have not escaped that statistic, though I was conscious of it from the start. In one 18 month period from 2017 – 2019 I had 7 major sinus procedures, 2 hospitalizations for sepsis, an unexpected hysterectomy, a scary thyroid tumor and infection in my mouth that resulted in the need for complete dentures at age 44.
I thank God for his healing and hope my 50s will continue to show improving health that He alone has granted.
As I reflect on my journey, I often think about something my friend Char and I always used to say to one another. Maybe Lowell was unexpectedly late after work or one of the kids was super sick. After we survived the crisis, we would share together and one of us would say, Well, had you planned the funeral?”
Now, I have planned a funeral. Despite the fact that I never thought my heart would keep beating if God needed any of my long awaited babies back, He has been our provision! I have been able to keep on living. Not on my own strength, but solely on HIS. He has brought unexpected laughter and joy back into my heart and into our home. He has provided deep meaningful friendship with others who have been compassionate with us and love us as we are in all of our brokenness.
If you have heard anything that I have shared, I hope the take away will be that you always remember God’s faithfulness and His ability to handle our biggest questions and traumas. He truly is so capable and so so good…