><> JJSJ

Almost two months ago, a legendary man of God stepped over "the invisible partition in the sky" to be with His Savior forever.  Dr. Jim Johnson's office was just across the hall and down aways from my own.  I only had the pleasure of doing one event with him - one morning of VBS Sessions at First Dallas in the Summer of 2024.  I was looking forward to his joining us for our Fall Parks Across America Tour in Southern Florida coming in just a few weeks.  He had so much to share, and I wanted the opportunity to learn more from him.  Unfortunately, I'll never get that opportunity.  Since his passing, all of us who knew and loved him have felt the loss of his wisdom, his smile, his kindness, and his breadth of knowledge. 

In my two years working with him at ICR, I was always struck by the love that he and his wife, Sherry, shared - it was obvious to everyone around them.  As a couple, they were an inspiration of what loving service to each other and their Savior means.  Sherry had joined us that day at VBS, and she is a familiar visitor to the office.  Together, they reflected the command and beautiful truth - "the two shall become one" - one in mind, one in service, one in love.  Sherry embodies the model of the helpmeet - woman made for man who becomes the companion of all his days.  Together, the mutual respect they had, the tender kindness and willing hands to serve the other - they truly reflected a Christ-like marriage.  

One day, a few weeks ago, I heard a rustling in his office - Sherry had come to work through some more things.  His office was filled floor to ceiling with his beloved books, souvenirs from his extensive travels, and ships (mainly Norwegian ships - honoring his heritage which he enthusiastically studied and shared).  I kept thinking how difficult that process is after losing a loved one.  No one is ever ready to go through things - what to keep? what to give? what to get rid of entirely?  And memories and moments are on every shelf and in every drawer.  The entire process is overwhelming, emotional, and daunting.  I struggled - do I let her be or do I let her know she isn't alone. . .I decided to  slip in to visit - could I help with anything? how was she? and all the things that one never knows if they should say them or if silence is best. . . 

In that time, I got to hear more of Sherry's heart and how difficult the month since his passing had been.  She shared, we cried, I listened.  Before I left, she let me pray with her - a moment I will always treasure - hand-in-hand, beside his desk, with boxes and books stacked around us praying that the "God of all comfort" would comfort as only He could.  

In the coming days, Sherry and the entire situation were all heavy on my mind.  Her words, my own, and the Scripture I had prayed over her kept whirling in my thoughts. . . I knew a poem was going to come of it.  But how could I, a woman who has never known the joy nor sorrows of marriage, truly capture with pen and ink the sorrow of a widow except for the own ways I've grieved the "House that Would Have Been"*.  But I couldn't get it out of my heart and mind until it was on the page.

Last week, I had the honor of being yet again in Dr. Johnson's office with Sherry, and this time to tell her I had written a poem for her- I asked how she wanted it shared.  She wanted me to read it to her.  And there, as she sat in his own chair, and I opposite,  I shared the words that Jesus gave me as I processed my own sorrow with and for her.  

Sherry - thank you for being a picture of Christ and living out Genesis 2:24 in such an inspiring way.  Thank you for allowing me to step into and alongside you in grief to capture these thoughts in poem.  Your grief is a sacred space - an offering consecrated to our Savior.  I am honored you accepted this poem and wanted me to share it with others.

><> JJSJ

For Sherry

Written August 29, 2025

He always loved the shore

The fish and all things in the sea

And oft we stood beside it 

Watching the waves lap endlessly

Yet, for a moment, all is stillness, 

And in the water like glass I see

Reflections of what used to be

Memories soar through my brain

Like seagulls fighting for discarded grain

Noisily they deafen me

In the silence that is now

As I sit alone. . . wondering how

How will I manage?

How will I cope? 

When he was my strength

And each day’s dearest hope

He has crossed the waves

To that distant shore

To come home nevermore.

But here was never home

At least not quite the same

As his home above he ever strove to gain.

But here, alone, stand I

And who is this, passing by? 

‘Tis my Saviour beckoning me

Onto the stormy sea

Obeying, I follow His outstretched arm

Into the crashing waves

The waves of grief encompass me

And, like the Rock

Echoes my soul’s one cry

“Lord, save me!”

Or else, I die.

How my God holds my hand 

To guide me in this sinking sand

I may never fully understand

Until I reach the Promise Land

So hold me up 

While I drink this cup

You know the pain I feel

And hold my heart until the day

When all earth’s hurts You heal. 

Note: Dr. Jim always signed his emails to me as ><> JJSJ (a fish, his favorite food, followed by his initials.)

*The House that Would Have Been is an unpublished and unshared poem I wrote a few years back. . . one of my most vulnerable and honest poems articulating moments of grieving the loss of dreams in singlehood. . .maybe someday I'll have the courage to share it here. . .