This is Not Home

“Grief is like a long valley, a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape.”
-C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Throwback picture of Pops and my brothers and I (circa 1993?)

I am a C.S. Lewis geek and because of this, I will almost always side with Lewis on matters of faith and theology, but in light of the recent events in my life, I am going to side with Lewis on his observations of grief as well. In the span of two weeks, my grandpa (who from here out will be called by his real name: Pops) and a colleague, friend, fellow youth minister, and mentor passed away unexpectedly.

When I received the call from my mom about Pops, I was en route to Washington D.C. for the March for Life with several youth ministry students. I wanted nothing more than to hop on a plane and rush back to Michigan where I could be with my family who were also feeling this deep loss. However, I didn't. Pops would not have approved of abandoning my job. My cousin Rusty pointed out at the vigil that Pops was all about follow through, and even if it was difficult, time-consuming, and a test of patience, you stuck with the task until it was completed to the best of your ability. I am so proud of my family and to be a part of the Kleinhans clan and I am confident that as Pops watched our grieving, crying, laughing from heaven, he was proud of the family that he raised.

My second day back to work after days off for the funeral, I was rocked with another revelation. Paula Dachsteiner, youth minister extraordinaire, died from a heart attack hours before one of the youth ministry outreach events. Talk about a shock. This is a woman who was my youth minister in high school, took me to World Youth Day in Australia, and was mentoring me through my first year as a youth minister. My initial reaction was "God, quit taking all the good ones!" My second thought was "Oh my gosh, what about her kids?" Not just her kids, but her YM kids too. Paula had a gift of making you feel like family and that is apparent in the community she created in her youth ministry program. As I sat in the pew at her funeral, I was so proud of each high school and college student I saw. They answered her death with deeper faith. I know Paula is proud of each one of her kids. She taught us about faith, pilgrimage, fun, retreats, outreach, and her final lesson is one we would all like to shy away from: death.

It's been a couple of weeks and I keep coming back to these two life-changing events, and I keep coming back to my initial statement after finding out about Paula: God, quit taking all the good ones. Pops was and is a good man, he was/is an amazing grandpa, our rock. Paula was/is an amazing woman of faith, an amazing youth minister and mom. They're the good ones. The more I think about this, though, I realize they were just living out their lives here until they were called home. This is not our home. This is a place we're just passing through on our way to eternal life. This is not to say that we coast through this life. If you knew Pops or Paula, you know that they did not just coast through life. They made an impact, they left a mark, they made a difference in the name of Jesus. As baptized Christians, this is God's call for each one of us.

This life is temporary. It's like the temporary tattoos we got when we were little. You would stick that sucker on and then go show everyone you could find. It wasn't going to be there forever and we had to show it off while it was there. That's what this life is for. It's not going to last forever, so we need to be the person God needs us to be while we're here. When we do that, we live this life to the fullest, but we also know part of our hearts are always seeking God, seeking our true home. St. Augustine wrote, "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you."

Death is hard. It leaves the hearts of the grieving broken and restless, but we can find comfort in knowing that our loved ones are now resting in God, and when we turn to God, we find our loved ones. As I grieve, I never know what feelings or memories the day will bring, or if it will be a day of tears or laughter. The landscape is changing and I'm just trying to navigate it. Thank God for family and friends. Thank God also for music. There has been a song stuck in my head since I found out about Pops, and I have found comfort in the song when I think about Pops and Paula and about death in general, but it also gives me hope as I continue on this journey through this temporary life, this home that is not my final home.