The Power of Story When the Script Changes
But God still stays...
Being a parent is one of the greatest gifts granted to us by God. Yet, we can often feel completely ill-prepared for the job. We struggle through tantrums, sickness, disappointments, and discipline. Most of the time, we aren’t sure how to make it through the day, let alone the next steps ahead of us. Milestones arrive, and we aren’t sure how to navigate them (or even want to face them).
While each milestone is meaningful and significant, sending your child off to college or the full-time workplace feels like the BIG one. It’s the moment we release them to the world. Whether they physically move away or not, they are leaving the nest, and deep down, we know… it will never be the same.
Today’s guest, Heidi Vegh, shares how she not only navigated this significant transition, but walked through it tethered to enduring remnants of suffering and loss.
The only constancy in life is change. Whatever transitions or unwelcome circumstances you are facing today, I pray you are encouraged by Heidi’s words. Hope remains because lasting hope comes from HIM.
THE POWER OF STORY WHEN THE SCRIPT CHANGES - HEIDI VEGH
Nothing can prepare you for the moment you drop off your firstborn at college.
I had anticipated it for months, imagining what it would look like, how it would feel, and how he might respond. I had watched the videos, read the posts, and expected a full-blown emotional meltdown as I drove away from campus.
But life rarely follows the script we write in our minds.
Jonah’s college journey was its own saga. He’d been accepted to several schools, but each one was either too far, too expensive, or simply not the right fit. Near the end, after the difficult decision to de-enroll from the University of Arizona because of finances, we began applying to local, rolling-admission schools. When he was accepted to Portland State University, just three hours from home, it wasn’t his dream school; it felt like the perfect fit…for now. They had the program he wanted in Computer Engineering, and plenty of internship opportunities in the “Silicon Forest.”
We made the trip down, spent the weekend moving him in, and explored the city together. On our last day, we had lunch at a food truck lot, and I tried to soak in every last moment.
I had envisioned leaving him in his dorm room, not dropping him off on a street corner. I had envisioned more emotion from him, not just a casual, “See ya later, Mom.”
But that’s how it went.
I got out, gave him one last, long hug, and he walked away. Then I got in the car and drove the three hours home without shedding a single tear.
Not what I expected at all.
Twelve years ago, I lost my husband, Jonah’s daddy, to a rare and aggressive cancer. He was taken far too soon, leaving me to raise our two boys alone. Jonah was seven. Isaac was five.
Life took a turn I never wrote into the script, a plot twist I never could have prepared for.
We’ve carried the weight of that grief every day since. The pain never fully disappears. With every milestone, I feel the sting rattle my body to the core. Sometimes it shows up as hot, wet tears streaming down my face. Other times, it’s just a quiet acknowledgment of how unfair life can be.
In those early days, I was riddled with anxiety. I didn’t know how to parent alone, and I was angry that Benji had left me to do it. We had promised to do it together, and now I was left to figure it out by myself.
I spent countless hours in my therapist’s office, processing the trauma of his decline and death. The past twelve years have been a journey of healing, learning, and trying to move forward after such a devastating loss.
I remember our boys’ therapist telling me that they would grieve at every age, that they would revisit the loss again and again as they grew. And I’ve seen that play out. Every milestone feels different. Every joy carries the ache of the one who isn’t here to see it.
I anticipate long phone calls from both of my boys in years to come as they fully process their loss as full-grown adults. They will be heart-wrenching but healing conversations.
Jonah’s graduation was one of the milestones I had dreaded most, and dropping him off at college came right after. He’s so much like his dad. Same passions, same curiosity, same quiet determination. I can only imagine how close they would have been.
It’s a loss that keeps giving, over and over and over again.
So when I dropped Jonah off on that corner, gave him one last hug, and drove away, I felt nothing but numb. I didn’t have Benji in the car beside me to reminisce about the day Jonah was born or his first day of kindergarten.
Those memories live only inside me now, with no one to share them with.
When I think about suffering, I often think about Job. He lost everything—his family, his health, his security—and through it all, he wrestled with God. Job didn’t hide his pain. He grieved, questioned, and lamented. But he never stopped speaking to God, even when he didn’t understand what God was doing.
It is important when we process trauma or loss to not leave God out of it. He is not separate from our pain, but sits with us in it. He is not just watching from above, he is feeling it with us, every ache, every sting, every rattle.
One thing I’ve learned through my own story: faith isn’t the absence of pain; it’s choosing to keep talking to God in the middle of it.
In the end, God didn’t give Job tidy answers. He gave him something better, His presence. He reminded Job that He is sovereign, that He sees what we cannot, and that He is near even in the silence.
Often in times that I don’t feel God near in my pain, I must choose to remember that He is present despite my feelings and I must choose to remember that He promises to never leave us nor forsake us. (Joshua 1:9)
There’s a strange comfort in knowing that the same God who met Job in his hard story meets us in ours. He doesn’t waste suffering. He shapes it, sits within it, and slowly, tenderly, brings beauty out of the ashes. (Isaiah 61:3)
Have you ever questioned why God allowed certain circumstances in your life? If so, how were God’s love and presence evident as you walked through that trial?
Let’s Share Stories! I hope you will continue to join me as we celebrate the power of story together. Click on the links below to subscribe or share.
Heidi Vegh is a writer, speaker, and ministry leader living in Gig Harbor, WA. She is a remarried mother of four, navigating the blended family life after the loss of her first husband to cancer in 2013. She longs to use her writing as a way to encourage others who have experienced loss and guide them on the road to healing. She contributes to her blog found at mrsheidivegh.com, sharing stories and devotionals of faith stemming from her loss and healing, mothering, and her blended and complex family. She graduated from Southern New Hampshire University with a degree in Creative Writing and English and has a passion for using her words to lead others to Jesus. Heidi is the Women’s Ministry Director at Gig Harbor Foursquare and has a deep heart for sharing Jesus with women and encouraging them in their faith walk. When she is not writing she loves to travel, read, excercise, and live out her passion for healthy and clean living.
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OTHER UPDATES FROM MEGAN
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