Learning to Breathe Again: Choosing Life and Finding Hope After a Shattering Loss

By Tammy Trent

Follow Christian singer/songwriter Tammy Trent as she tells of her beautiful love story turned tragic, still pointing to God as the source of all life and hope.

Theirs was a fairy-tale romance. Her husband, Trent, was Tammy's best friend and business manager. While vacationing in Jamaica in 2001, a routine free diving excursion in the Blue Lagoon turned drastically tragic when Trent never resurfaced. Unfortunately, the following day's events of 9/11 would create an incredible obstacle to Tammy's and her family's efforts to connect and handle these horrendous events.

Tearful prayers pleading with God to make Himself real have been answered, and God is slowly restoring Tammy's joy and hope, as she begins to sing and dance again for Him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Nelson
• Release date: May 28, 2006
• ISBN: 9781418579166

Book preview

9780849909542_0001_001

Selected lyrics in this volume have been recorded

on the following Tammy Trent CDs:

Set You Free

He’s Right There by Todd Collins and Lisa Kimmey "

My Irreplaceable" by Michael Gavin, Ray St. James,

    Steve Siler, and Tammy Trent

You Have My Heart

Welcome Home by John Mandeville

You Don’t Have the Strength by John Mandeville and

    Steve Siler

Breathing

Father God and New Life by Tammy Trent and

    Pete Orta

For more information about Tammy Trent Ministries, visit:

www.tammytrent.com

9780849909542_0003_002

© 2004 Tammy Trent.

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.

Thomas Nelson, Inc. titles may be purchased in bulk for educational, business, fundraising, or sales promotional use. For information, please e-mail [e-mail].

Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers.

Other Scripture references are from the following sources:

The King James Version of the Bible (KJV).

The Message (MSG), © Eugene Petersen 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Song lyrics and other borrowed materials are used by permission of the copyright holders. Please see complete credits on page 213.

The stories in this volume are true, but in some instances, names and details have been changed to protect identities.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Trent, Tammy.

  Learning to breathe again : choosing life and finding hope after a shattering loss / Tammy Trent.

    p. cm.

ISBN 978-0-8499-0954-2 (tp)

ISBN 978-0-8499-1826-1 (hc)

1. Trent,Tammy. 2. Lenderink,Trent—Death and burial. 3. Bereavement—Religious aspects—Christianity. 4. Christian biography—United States. I. Title

BR1725.T665A3   2004

277.3'083'0922—dc22

2004005548

Printed in the United States of America

07 08 09 10 11 RRD 9 8 7 6 5 4

THIS BOOK is dedicated to the greatest love my heart has ever known here on earth.

Trent, through the memories of your undying love and faithfulness to me, I’m learning to breathe again, somehow, without you. I never got to say good-bye to you, and I will always hate that. So I hold on to the day when I will get to say hello again in heaven.

What is it like there, Trent? What are you doing? Each day that passes here brings me closer to the day I’ll see you again. Don’t forget me,Trent. I’ll be there sooner than you think, and I promise we’ll still be the best of friends.

Thank you for all you gave to me throughout my life. I will be forever changed because of who you are to me. I love you always.

—Tammy, your girl

Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue: Fifteen Minutes

1. The Yummiest Guy

2. Loving Hearts, Broken

3. Wishing for More

4. Sporty Little Drummer Girl

5. Moving On

6. Love Song

7. Making the Break

8. On Our Own

9. Marriage and Music, Nashville Style

10. At the Crossroads

11. The Blue Lagoon

12. Waiting

13. The Day the World Changed

14. Grounded

15. The Angel

16. Remembering Trent

17. Going Home

18. On the Road Again

Credits

acknowledgments

IWOULD LIKE TO THANK THE ACADEMY . . .Wait! That’s a different project. (smile) Here go the real acknowledgments.

To Jesus: Thank you for paying the ultimate price for Trent and me on Calvary so we would feel and know hope that can come only from you. Thank you for your presence and love and hope in my life. I do believe . . . even in the hard times.

To Mom and Dad: (That’s the first time I can ever remember writing, To Mom and Dad.) With my eyes filled with tears, I thank you both for loving me unconditionally. I’ve learned so much from your examples of Christ in my life. I love you both and the way you shine!

To my little sister, Gina: You are truly one of the most important people in my life. You’ve been my big sister so many times throughout this journey. I love you so much.

To my big brother, Norm: You have been the perfect picture of a big brother protecting his little sis. I love you, Norm, and the way you cry with me.

To Mom and Dad Lenderink: Thank you for loving me . . . especially now. I will always need you in my life. Of all the gifts you ever gave me, Trent was my favorite. Thank you for sharing him with me. He adored his family.

To Pam Thum, my very best friend: You’ve been there through it all, and you still love me. Your love and prayers for me have pushed away many dark clouds in my life. Thank you for your timeless friendship.

To my nieces and nephews, Joshua, Jordan, Anna, Amanda, Sarah, Jonathan, Kenny, and Kyle: You are always so quick to hug and kiss Auntie T when I’m sad. I love playing, snuggling, and hanging out with you all so much. All my heart, Aunt Tammy.

To Anita Rundell: I’m so happy the Lord brought you into my life three years ago. Who knew you’d become one of my best friends and traveling buddies? You’ve seen every side of me, and you’re still here. Thank you for making me laugh again. I love you, girl.

To the Women of Faith team: Thank you for your healing love and acceptance that have been so gently wrapped around my heart these last couple of years. I love being with you and making you laugh! Now, put that thing away!

To Debbie Wickwire at Thomas Nelson: You’ve always seen something special in this story and in me. I can never thank you enough for believing in and genuinely loving me. You’re remarkable.

To Sue Ann Jones: Thank you for taking my words and then so beautifully bringing them to life through these pages. You will always be another angel in my life.What a privilege to work with you on this book. I felt completely safe.

To Lynn Morrow: Thanks for always looking out for me. You always seem to know my heart.

Thanks to Stephen, so unselfish; to Ken, so strong; to Diana, the perfect mom; to Keith, for loving my mom; and to Val, for loving my dad.

And to the countless friends, fans, and churches around the world who have prayed for me: I know I’m here today, pressing on, because you stood in the gap for me when I could not stand alone. Thank you, straight from the heart.

9780849909542_0001_0019780849909542_0012_001

Trent at the Blue Lagoon

prologue: fifteen minutes

AFTER LUNCH we returned to the rental car so Trent could put on his diving suit. I waited while he sat on the car seat, his muscular, beautifully tanned legs stretching out through the door. He stuck one foot, then the other, into the legs of the stretchy, one-piece garment and stood up to pull it on. It fit his sleek, muscular body like a second skin, and once again I was reminded that I had married the world’s handsomest man.

With the wet suit half on, he reached for my hand (that was our thing—we held hands everywhere we went) and walked together down to the dock alongside Jamaica’s spectacular Blue Lagoon, where he planned to dive. On the dock, when his well-toned chest and six-pack abs were about to disappear behind the full-length zipper, I couldn’t resist the urge to capture the moment.

Trent, stop, I said, digging through my beach bag for the camera. "You look amazing. Let me take a picture of you right now. You look great."

He shook his head good-naturedly, turned to focus his brilliant green eyes on the lens, and smiled that heart-melting smile I knew so well. I snapped the picture and returned his smile. He zipped up the dive suit, and we settled onto the edge of the dock’s platform, swinging our feet in the clear, warm water.We were in a gorgeous place: the wide, shimmering pool of salt water varied from aquamarine on the edges to cobalt blue in the center of the 240-foot-deep hole. One side of the lagoon opened into a small channel that emptied into the Caribbean so that the blue-green transitions of the water seemed to blend into a sparkling mass of diamonds glistening on the sea. Around the lagoon was a jungle of luscious tropical foliage. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen.

Trent had been certified to scuba dive since he was twelve, and in the last year or so he had taught himself to free dive too, exploring deep water without an oxygen tank. As he did with everything new, he had done extensive research before he began free diving. He had read books, watched videos, and searched the Internet until he was totally familiar with the technique. Then he had practiced determinedly—in our bathtub!—until he could hold his breath for five full minutes without emerging for air. Today he was eager to explore the Blue Lagoon without the bulky oxygen tank and regulator.

We sat there together a few more moments; we had done this dozens of times before during our eighteen years together. Trent loved to dive, and whenever we vacationed in a tropical place, he spent as much time as he could underwater. He would have loved it if I had dived with him, but it just wasn’t for me. So I sat in my usual spot—beside Trent on the dock—as he pulled on his fins and got ready to go into the water. He adjusted his mask and snorkel, eased his underwater scooter over the side, then slid quietly into the water without a splash, as easily and smoothly as an otter.

He gently treaded water a moment as I gazed out over the glistening lagoon. Another dock—a swimming and sunbathing platform—floated near the center.

Trent, I said, do you think I could swim to that dock by myself and hold up a towel so I could lay out?

He squinted in the sunshine, stretching his neck to look toward the dock. You probably could, but I could just swim the towel over there for you. Here, let me have it.

No, I can do it—don’t you think? I wanted the challenge, but still, it would be a bit of a swim, especially with one hand held out of the water.

He smiled at me. Baby, I know you can do it, but I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, so why don’t you just wait, and I’ll go with you.

Oh, never mind, I said. I’d probably get sunburned out there anyway. Then I couldn’t lay out with you the rest of the afternoon, and I’d much rather do that.

Trent smiled at me, nodded, and turned back toward the lagoon. OK. I’ll be back in a little bit, he said. "Then we can do something you want to do. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes."

OK, Trent.

He pushed off, his body moving across the surface of the water as the little scooter pulled him toward the center of the lagoon. He kicked gently with the fins, his face in the water, as he glided away from me. I waited for him to stop, turn back, and wave, absolutely certain he would. That was another thing we did. We would say good-bye and walk away, then we’d turn and wave a little wave and leave again . . . and turn and wave a little wave and walk a bit farther . . . and turn again and wave. It was a standing joke with us, our silly repetitive waving.

And there it was. Trent stopped in the water, just at the point where the clear, aquamarine shallows shaded into the deeper blue. His face, encased in the mask, came up out of water, the snorkel protruding past his ear. He turned back to me, lifted his hand beside his head, and quickly bent his fingers forward and up, forward and up—the funny little wave I’d seen a million times in all sorts of places. His wide smile appeared beneath the mask. I smiled back at him, lifted my hand beside my ear, and mimicked his finger-flapping in the same tight little motion.

Then Trent turned toward the deep water, sank beneath the surface, and was gone.

1

Jehova Jira

Jehova Jira, my provider.

His grace is sufficient for me, for me, for me.

Jehova Jira, my provider.

His grace is sufficient for me.

And my God shall supply all my needs

According to His riches and glory.

He shall give His angels charge over me.

Jehova Jira careth for me, for me,

Jehova Jira careth for me.

—Merve and Merla Watson

1

The Yummiest guy

1984

EVANGELIST DAVE ROEVER was sharing his riveting story that Sunday night in March at First Assembly of God Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan. So many people from all over the region had flocked to the church to hear him that an overflow room had to be set up. Being late, that’s where my brother,Norm, and I ended up, sitting on folding chairs and watching the presentation on a large video screen.

A grenade had blown up in Mr. Roever’s hand when he was a young soldier, permanently disfiguring him. His testimony described how his faith in God had helped him survive not only the injuries to his body but also the injuries to his mind and his emotions in the years since the accident. His story was fascinating. But I have trouble now, twenty years later, remembering many of the details of that remarkable night. Instead I was stuck in a mindless episode of teenage-girl silliness.

Before Norm and I left home that night, I stood in front of my closet and fretted that I didn’t have anything to wear. I can close my eyes today and still see the outfit I ended up with: a funky green-and-brown sweater, a khaki skirt, cream-colored pantyhose, and some matronly brown pumps that used to be my mom’s.

At the church, I settled in beside Norm on our folding chairs, and when, during the service, the pastor invited us to greet one another, I turned around and found, standing behind me in the next row of folding chairs, the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life. I think I even gasped at the sight of him as we automatically shook hands and said hello. He is SO cute! I thought, trying to keep my mouth from dropping open like a fish gasping for oxygen. And my next thought was, Good Lord! Look what I’m wearing.

Hi, I’m Tammy, I managed to blurt out.

I’m Trent, he answered, flashing the most spectacular smile in the whole state of Michigan.

He looked older, like a man rather than a fifteen-year-old, as I was that night. And he had a girl with him. Probably his girlfriend, I thought. There goes that possibility.

He definitely stood out from the crowd in his sharp, brown blazer that fell perfectly from his broad shoulders. Beneath the blazer he wore a soft, beige pullover and khaki slacks. He had a strong, movie-star jaw line, perfect blond hair, and a smile that exuded charm and charisma. I couldn’t wait for the service to end so I could get another look at him. But when it was time to leave, he had vanished.

People had come from other churches all over the area to hear Mr. Roever, and since I hadn’t seen the cute guy before, I assumed he was from another congregation. I felt sad, thinking I probably would never see him again.

A TRIO OF MR. UNIVERSES

A few nights later, I was back at church, sitting with some girlfriends near the front of the auditorium during youth group. First Assembly was a big, enthusiastic church, and that night, as usual, we were singing Jehova Jira seventy-seven times in a row (or at least it seemed like it) with our hands lifted high. I happened to turn my head toward the back just in time to see, walking in the door, the three yummiest guys I had ever seen. They were big, athletic, football-type hunks—and one of them was the guy I’d seen in the overflow room. Trent. I closed my eyes and silently shouted, Thank you, Jesus!

My heart pounded as the trio of Mr. Universes found a place to sit. Then the coolest thing happened. Trent and the other two joined right in the singing of Jehovah Jira with their hands lifted up as they worshiped the Lord. There was something so absolutely attractive about that moment that I just knew I had to get to know them—and Trent was the one I had my eye on.

There were more than three hundred young people in First Assembly’s youth group, so, to help the kids get acquainted, the big group would break up into fellowship groups based on the area of the city you lived in. Fortunately for me,Trent and I both lived on the north end of town.

I wanted to get to know this good-looking guy (probably like every girl in that youth group!), but when we met again in the small fellowship group, I lost my confidence as I got a closer look at what he was wearing. Trent had on all the cool labels: perfect designer clothes in the latest styles and best colors. He looked like the guy in Ralph Lauren’s Polo ad. Sizing him up, I reconsidered my prospects, knowing that my family was obviously in a different income level. While we had everything we needed, we didn’t have a lot of the things we wanted, including the coolest clothes. Thinking of my mom’s hand-me-down shoes and the other plain, store-brand outfits that hung in my closet, I thought,He’ll never go for me. My family doesn’t have the money to dress the way he does.

Still, I wanted to give it a try. The fellowship group met at a private home, and the first time Trent attended, I poured on the charm. Suddenly I was Miss Sweetie Pie with the big servant’s heart: Can I get you anything? Would you like something to drink? I was serving everyone, not just Trent and his brothers (the other two good-looking guys who had first appeared with him; the girl I’d seen with Trent the first night wasn’t there). I finally sat down after taking around yet another plate of snacks, this one full of candy, and I was so excited, thinking, We just shared some SweetTarts. Oh, I am SO going to kiss him later!

Trent and his brothers were sweet but shy, and we probably hadn’t exchanged more than a few words that night (including Like some? and Thank you), so I was shocked by what happened as the meeting ended. For some reason, I needed a ride home that evening; I can’t remember why. But I spoke up as the meeting ended, asking if anyone could give me a ride, and as soon as the words were out of my mouth, Trent piped up. We’ll take you home, he said.

You will? Awesome! I practically shouted. Every head in the room turned to look at me,