I accepted Jesus as my Savior at an early age. I was one of those kids who grew up in the church – Wednesday night, Sunday night, Sunday School, and Vacation Bible School every summer. I never really questioned my faith or God’s existence or that Jesus died for my sins.
Sometimes, if not most of the time, struggles come out of nowhere, when we least expect them. One minute we are living life, making memories, and the next we are facing giants we didn’t even know existed. As I watched my young daughters, Kristi and Mattie, collect autographs at Disney World, I quietly thought, “This must be my happily ever after”. My husband, Rick, and I had just opened our own travel agency, and our lives were filled with excitement about the promise of entrepreneurship, travel, and financial security. We were enjoying a week in Florida with our family. Shortly after returning, I sat at my desk and noticed some pain in my right shoulder. Instead of improving, the pain began to travel from my shoulder down my arm and into my hand, becoming intense. Fueling my fear, the pain became more widespread. After a few months of doctor’s visits, testing, and waiting to see a Rheumatologist, I was diagnosed with Systemic Lupus Erythematosus. As we learned more about the disease, we were thankful that it was only causing pain and fatigue, instead of organ involvement, which was much more serious. Over the next year, I was also diagnosed with two other autoimmune disorders, Raynaud’s Syndrome and Sjogren’s Syndrome, as well as Fibromyalgia. I was in constant pain and had to deal with severe fatigue, but I was still able to work. I experienced fear and feelings of depression but my faith in God and his plan remained strong.
Over time, I began to have flares more often, even leading to repeated hospitalizations. One day, I developed a brutal headache. When it seemed that the pain was simply unbearable, Rick took me to the ER, where they tried to soothe the pain with the strongest drugs they had, but nothing helped. It was hard to even stay in bed because of the pain. After multiple injections with pain medications, I finally went to sleep that night in a hospital room. Rick slept not far from my bed. Sometime during the night, I woke up to my leg shaking uncontrollably. I opened my mouth to take a breath, but regardless of how hard I tried, I could not inhale. The only thing that came out, miraculously, was a cry of “Rick”. That is the last thing I remember until I awoke to the fuzzy images of my parents and Rick beside my bed. Rick was crying and said that he awoke to his name being called in a way that terrified him. He looked over to see me jerking and bouncing on the bed in convulsions. I learned that it had been a seizure and that I had been unconscious for about an hour. After numerous tests, we were told that the Lupus was attacking my brain, called vasculitis or CNS involvement. We were told that it was life-threatening and that I would need chemotherapy. The next three years were a blur of treatments, tears, and most of my days in bed. Even though I questioned why this was happening, my faith remained strong.
Finally, things improved thanks to chemotherapy and strong doses of steroids. I had gained weight and was discouraged, but we all felt so blessed that God had answered our prayers and given us a miracle. We had been forced to close the agency since I was no longer able to work consistently, but I felt that even that was a gift from God, enabling me to be a stay-at-home mom and spend more time with Kristi and Mattie. We enjoyed tea parties and after-school talks, and I praised God for the precious time.
When the girls were in high school, Rick became extremely tired, which was not like him. I insisted that he go to the doctor. He was also having stomach pain. He walked into the house following his doctor’s appointment and went straight upstairs without a word. I knew at once the news was not good.
Rick was diagnosed with stomach cancer, and we were told he would need to have his entire stomach removed. These words shocked me! How could someone live without a stomach, and how could I possibly live without my husband, best friend, and love of my life? I kept asking the surgeon in desperation for a timeline or a guarantee that Rick would survive, but he could offer neither. Although I had no promises from the doctors, I continued to see little signs here and there that God was my hope and that he was with us.
After the surgery and twenty days in the hospital, Rick was able to go home with the knowledge that the cancer was Stage 3. He continued to grow stronger and, over the next two years, remained cancer-free. Once again, we praised God for a miracle!
During this time, Kristi started college. She had decided to attend a small Christian university close to home, but lived on campus. I wanted her to have the full college experience. Both girls, after going through my illness and Rick’s cancer, were surprisingly strong in their faith. They were active in our church’s student ministry and worked with younger girls to share their faith. During Kristi’s senior year in high school, she had surrendered her life to the ministry and was now majoring in Journalism with a minor in Christian Studies. She had a dream to publish a magazine for young girls that emphasized living for Christ.
That February, during an ice storm, Rick and I were getting ready for bed when the phone rang, and I heard the words that would forever repeat themselves in my mind – “Mrs. Billington Kristi has been in an accident and is unconscious.” As soon as they could get her out of the car, an ambulance would take her to the hospital. I would learn later that she had been cut out of the car with the jaws of life. We called my parents, and they insisted on driving us to the hospital. Rick hit the wall with his fist in anger, and I felt a kind of fear I had never felt before. I began to pray desperately.
My memories of the next week are in pictures like scenes from a terrible play that I’m watching and can’t stop. After surgery, she moved into the ICU. Our visits with her were limited, and she was still unconscious. The doctors told us that during the surgery, they had removed several organs and that due to head trauma, there was probably brain damage. I tried not to listen when they talked about brain damage. The halls of the hospital ICU waiting room were lined with Kristi’s friends from both college and high school. Junior High girls crying who were in Kristi’s small group that she led. I had never seen so many machines hooked up to one person; they lined up on both sides of her bed. Kneeling on my knees, praying, I asked a friend if she thought our prayers really mattered – I said, can we change His mind. She said something about the prayers changing us – that wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I would understand later. A revolving door of people from the church – all terrified and shocked that this was happening to the sweet college Freshman who had been so active in the student ministry and had gone to the front of the church not long ago to answer a call to the ministry, the girl who loved children and worked in the church daycare. The girl who had gone in front of the church to thank them for all the support when her father had cancer. The girl whom we were all sure God was going to use and had big plans for. I can still see the waiting room where probably 50 or more students and adult friends stayed around the clock. Some slept in chairs. I just watched, not believing what was happening and not grasping its reality. My knees gave out when the doctor told us that all of her organs were shutting down and that she would pass in a matter of days or hours. Mattie looked at me with tears in her eyes, saying, “Mom, she’s going home.” Even now, it is so difficult for me to express the raw emotion and the utter helplessness that I felt. I can identify with David’s anguish in Psalm 55.
“My heart is in anguish within me; the terrors of death have fallen upon me. Fear and trembling come upon me, and horror overwhelms me. And I say, ‘Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest; yes, I would wander far away; I would lodge in the wilderness; I would hurry to find a shelter from the raging wind and tempest.” Psalm 55:4-8 (ESV)
During the first year after Kristi went to heaven, I leaned on my faith and concentrated on heaven. As I cried, a friend told me to just read the bible constantly, that it was more than the words, it was a supernatural way for the Holy Spirit to minister to my fresh wound. As time went on, however, my faith suffered; I could not understand how my loving heavenly Father could allow something beyond my worst fears to happen. Why did he give miracles to Rick and to me, only to take Kristi? I spent the next several years questioning, searching, and crying out to a God that I wasn’t even sure I still believed in. But here’s the thing, regardless of how mad I got, how many questions I asked, and how many times I screamed out “WHY”, He was there and the amazing thing that only Christians who have experienced a profound loss of some kind can understand, even while I was yelling out and wrestling with my unbelief, in a quiet, still place in my heart, I knew he was there. I knew He loved me. I knew He loved Kristi even more than I did, and I knew where she was. What was even more amazing was that God used Kristi’s accident during that first year to bring others to faith in Him. I know she wanted to share her faith, and God did so in a mighty way. One life that was touched was a young friend of Kristi’s from high school. Not long after the accident, Kelli began to hang around at our house, as did several of Kristi’s friends. I think in some way, they found comfort being around our family during those first months. Kelli had been on a dance team with Kristi in high school. As I talked with her, I learned that she was not a Christian, but that Kristi had given her a Bible a few years earlier. She said that now it was one of her prized possessions. I invited her to a college Bible study that my best friend and I led. We had started the group for Kristi and her friends, and now we continued to meet, although seeing these girls and being in the group without Kristi was very painful. Kelli started going to the group, and after a few weeks, she asked if she could come to my house after the meeting. I said of course. Once we were home, seated in my living room, she began asking questions. God gave me the words, and she prayed to receive Christ that night, right in my living room. I kept in touch with her for many years, but then we got busy as people do, and I only followed her life somewhat on Facebook. One day, years later, as I looked over the many stories, I saw a post on her mom’s page asking for pictures of Kelli because she had passed away. God’s promise to use Kristi echoed in my head as I remembered that night at my house when Kelli had gone from “death to life” by accepting Christ as her savior. Now she was in heaven with Kristi. She was only 26 when she passed away.
He also brought hundreds of hurting people to me and spoke through me both in person and through my writing to offer hope and encouragement to others who had lost loved ones.
God worked on my hurting soul over the years and taught me about his sovereignty and that I needed to trust him with everything, not just the things that turned out the way I wanted. I saw with new eyes that this world is damaged by sin, resulting in pain and tragedies, and that it is not our home. He lovingly taught me to address my fear, distrust, and bitterness. I had to let go of my desire for control and the need to have my questions answered. I have always believed that everything happens for a reason, but I wanted to know the reasons. I had to let go of that need, admitting that God is God and I am not! Even these 20 years later, I still struggle with the fear that something will happen to Mattie or my grandsons, and I will have to experience that pain again, but I fight to trust God, knowing that he is in control and that he loves them even more than I do. I have learned that these things are not possible through my own efforts, but only with the help of the Holy Spirit, found through prayer and God’s Word.
I have always enjoyed writing, and I’m currently working on a devotional book for women who suffer from chronic illness called Chronic Hope for Chronic Pain. I’m also completing a memoir that goes deeper into my story.
Rom. 8:38-39, Isa. 51:11, Jer. 31:13, John 14:1-4, John 17:24, 1 Cor. 2:9, 6:14, 2 Cor. 5:1-3
Everything from financial assistance, time spent with Mattie, prayers, and most of all, just sitting with me and crying along with me.
The hope that she is with him now and that one day I will stand beside her, and we will worship our Father together!
I am new to this site, but I have enjoyed reading the other stories and listening to the podcast. It has encouraged me to continue telling my story. God created us to be in communion with one another, sharing our joys and sorrows.