Still Can't Help Myself: Short Stories and Daily Devotionals

By Richard T. Vander Vaart

This is the second book in Richard T. VanderVaart’s series, Following the Shepherd in Real Life. The stories you read here are collected from ministry experiences, family times, and everyday incidents. Each of the thirty short stories includes a devotion which will help readers reflect on their walk with God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Word Alive Press
• Release date: Jul 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781486614691

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INTRODUCTION

Once in a great while, you find that your life intersects with a person

at several pivotal and intriguing moments. Danny VanderSpek is one such person. His short life was filled to the brim with love for God. At various times in my ministry, while I was pastor in Danny’s church in Dresden, and then for a few years afterward, I had the great privilege of being involved in significant God-moments in his life and his family’s life.

To us who knew him, it was dark providence when Danny’s life was cut short by cancer at the age of twenty-six. Like so many others, I felt I wanted to do something. For more than a year, I thought maybe I could be a blessing or encouragement to Danny’s wife, Corrine, and to the family. No obvious answer presented itself.

Then I heard that the family had been talking about the possibility of setting up a memorial scholarship in Danny’s name. When that possibility was raised, I thought I’d really love to contribute in some way. I hope to use the net proceeds from this book to raise money for this scholarship.

The book is not about Danny. His memory is still too fresh and the stories too big to tell, and I suspect it is not my story to tell.

Etched in our collective memories is November 7, 2014, the day Danny died. Yet something beautiful happened a few days later. After the public visitation, close friends and family members gathered at the funeral home to offer stories and memories of Danny’s life. His great love of laughter. Some pranks, previously untold. His delight in life. His love for God, his wife, their daughter, and his family radiated through all the teary tributes. Those who knew Danny were, and even now are, fiercely loyal to him.

In the next few pages, you’ll read a post Corrine recently wrote, her reflections on being a widow, and then you’ll read what has motivated Corrine to put together this memorial scholarship. May God add His blessing to these efforts.

Danny’s mom, Marianne VanderSpek, has long been a great encouragement to me, first of all in the process of working my first book, and now this second book. Her love of photography and attention to detail are such a blessing and encouragement. Marianne and her husband Pete are the kind of friends to Carolyn and me that we can always pick up where we left off. The last conversation may have been a week ago, or a year, but the friendship is always alive with the grace of our God and King. Thank you, Marianne, for your faithful support in this project.

Shalom.

FOREWORD

By Corrine VanderSpek

I remember when our daughter was nearly eight months old and we acknowledged that she had lived longer without her daddy than with him.

A few days ago was the day that marked the point of me having been a widow longer than having been married. We were married just over two years. Now I’ve been a widow for two years and a few days. Now I’ve lived in our home longer without him than I did with him.

A few months ago, I thought that maybe that would be the day to take off my wedding ring. Honestly, with Christmas preparations, the day came and went without me even realizing it. I wasn’t ready to take off my ring anyway. I’m still not. And that’s okay.

We never went to bed upset: it was close a couple of times, but not once did it happen. Now I go to bed upset every night… not in a punch-the-pillow, cry-myself-to-sleep way every time, but upset that this is how it is.

Over the past two years, I’ve learned a lot more than I did while we were married. Life is a lot harder. There’s nothing you can pre-learn. You have absolutely no idea until, shockingly, you’re in these shoes and you’re forced to learn. You are stretched further than you could ever expect and you experience the extremes of your emotions separately and at the exact same time.

If you put these types of things on a resume (not sure who would do that), I have more experience now being a widow than being married. Not many people have it that way, thankfully. I wouldn’t consider myself an expert widow. I still mess up. It still feels new. I’m still confused. I’m still lonely and hurt. That’s how it will be forever.

Because of all of this, though, I know that I’m stronger. I know that I’m doing things that I would have never dreamed I could do. I know that I have deepening faith and joy. I know that I have love—that I give it and receive it.

Danny was my person. Even though it’s so hard now, I’m grateful that I had life with him. I know that I’m blessed to know what true love feels like. And I’m blessed to have our sweet girl to help carry on that love.

With a few specific details removed, this is what we wrote for the back of Danny’s headstone:

Danny grew up in a loving Dutch home on the family farm in Ontario. He attended Calvin College where he met his wife and many lifelong friends. Danny and Corrine were married in 2012 and made their home in Michigan. He loved being a father to their precious daughter, and he was a genuine, creative, and caring man. Dan enjoyed his work as an electrical engineer, and his strong Christian faith was evident in every aspect of his life. His legacy will endure through the lives of his loved ones.

Go Leafs go!

To God be the glory, now and forever.

Danny and I met in college during our freshman year. We lived in the same dorm and even happened to have a few classes together. We were a part of the same group of friends throughout college and beyond. It wasn’t until our junior year that I started dating this sweet guy. This avid Toronto Maple Leafs fan, collector of comic books, nerd, and very competitive board game player. This handsome, genuine guy who could be found in various dorm rooms fixing computers, or in his own room with his headphones on listening to music, or sledding down snow-covered hills on a mattress with the other guys on his floor. He was pretty laid back and had a sophisticated sense of humour. He gave the best hugs and had one of the most memorable laughs.

In the months after we lost Danny, I knew that I wanted to do many different things to remember him and to ensure that his legacy lives on for many years to come. His life was taken from us way too soon: we were married for just over two years and we had a brand-new baby girl at home. We had dreams of having a house and fixing it up, travelling more, and having more children. We were still trying to figure out how we could independently and collectively serve our church community and the world.

But as we found out unexpectedly, after a short battle with cancer, God’s plan is bigger than our own plans. I surrendered to His plan because I didn’t have a choice. As hard and loud as I kick and scream against losing him and being a widow and single parent, it’s still God’s plan. As horrible as it feels when we are forced to surrender to God’s plan for us, it is also comforting to know that we are still in the palm of His hand. He has it figured out.

The Daniel VanderSpek Memorial Scholarship

There have been several specific ways that we have celebrated and remembered our person. Our husband, father, son, brother, and friend. Danny. Many of the ways we remember him are in our hearts and within our closest family and friend circles, but some of them are more public. One of the ways we have decided to ensure that Danny’s legacy lives on is at a place that was and is incredibly special and significant to us. We are creating an endowment scholarship in Danny’s memory at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Calvin is where we created some of our very closest, lifelong friendships. It’s where we made some of our fondest memories. It’s where Danny learned and studied and graduated with a degree in electrical engineering. It’s where we had a solid environment in which to learn about prioritizing our faith in our lives as adults. It’s where we met and where our love story began. This place, and the people we met there, has played an important role in shaping us as individuals and as a couple. This place is important to us.

This scholarship will help students at Calvin pursue their dreams, make lifelong friends and memories, and graduate with a degree that represents a well-rounded, faith-filled education, just like Danny did. We plan to have this scholarship awarded each year to someone who is pursuing electrical engineering and who also makes their faith the most important part of their life by living it and sharing it with others. This scholarship will share Danny’s story and help his legacy live on in the students it assists.

The proceeds of this book are generously being donated to the Daniel VanderSpek Memorial Scholarship at Calvin College. On behalf of our family and friends, we are so grateful for the thoughtfulness and generosity of Richard for blessing this endeavour and for helping Danny’s legacy live on. This gesture is such a beautiful response to what an important man of faith Richard was to Danny as his family’s pastor for several years. Richard was a part of Danny’s profession of faith, he spoke at our wedding in 2012, and he spoke at Danny’s funeral in 2014. Thank you, Richard, for the example, inspiration, and guidance you gave to Danny as his pastor and friend. Thank you for your continued love and support for our forever-grieving family. Thank you for the profound impact you are making in continuing his legacy through this book.

DAY 1

In the Dark

Not that long ago, a few friends joined me on a trip to a conference about church planting.1 The host church pastor, Simon, was bursting with excitement. In a few short years, his tiny church plant, which had started with eight people with a vision from God to start a church, had grown into a large congregation. The small gathering had met in various rented buildings, and it had moved as it outgrew the spaces. Each time, some of the regulars dropped their attendance because of the change.

But now, oh now, gushed Simon, the slim fiftysomething pastor, with excited waves of his hands, we have grown to the point where we could build this church building that can accommodate growth. It is a green building, you know; every effort has been made to reduce its carbon footprint.

The dozen or so people who followed Pastor Simon on a tour of this new building were treated to a verbal stream of information. The washrooms were the latest in ecofriendly design. The lights came on by motion sensors. There were no light switches. At the sinks, the water would start by waving one’s hands in front of the detector on the neck of the faucet. The water was set at a temperature which focus groups had determined was the best for the most people, and the most energy-efficient.

Really, I was losing focus here. A few members of the group broke away from the tour to use the washrooms. After all, their trip to the conference had been very long. I felt an increasingly urgent need to use the washroom, but I would have to wait my turn. I continued with the tour, nearly jogging to keep up with the fast-paced pastor as he showed off the next feature of this ecofriendly church.

Reclaimed bricks had been used in some areas. The backsplash in the kitchen was a masterpiece of beautiful tilework which had been recovered from a local historic property; the home had been torn down because of foundation and structural problems, but construction companies in the area had been invited to remove bricks and banisters, light fixtures and doorknobs, and any other materials which might be repurposed.

My need to go to the washroom was increasing, and I felt like I’d have some internal structural damage if I didn’t find my way back there immediately. Breaking away from the group, I retraced my steps and found the washroom. I heard a soft click as