My challenges look different these days - once it was a challenge to ski now it is a challenge to climb stairs.
"How does the ocean say hi?"
It waves!
**********
Over the years we have constantly been asked.... "What about forgiveness? Why did you choose it? Was it the right choice? How do you forgive something so unforgiveable as the murder of your child? How did we find the way to healing?
First of all, I need to acknowledge that we had a lot of help along the way.
In hindsight, I will always be grateful for our ten o’clock stranger, the parent of a murdered child who came to warn us of what to expect. It felt inappropriate but it was what was needed at the time. We saw with clarity what we were up against.
I am also glad we chose the word “forgiveness” in response to the trauma manifesting on our bed so early in the process and with such intentionally. We saw it work - and we saw it slither off the bed.
I am also glad for the press conference –that dramatic moment that forced us to say it out loud. Making the commitment public helped keep us accountable. Forgiveness is a moving target. Being forced to declare it to the world was setting up an acceptable form of accountability….Much like wedding vows - we say we love each other and then learn what that means for the rest of the marriage.
Another turning point was at the funeral home when I chose to encase the coffin in a cement vault. That choice was another early sign that I felt guilty for not being able to protect Candace. It really started with that simple act of sacrificing to protect Candace and thereby forgiving myself.
Behind the scenes I took another important step and educated myself on the act of murder. Who would tie up a 13-year girl and then leave her in a deserted shed to freeze to death? What type of man would indulge in that kind of evil - which we knew even back then that it had sexual overtones?
I realized I wasn’t familiar with this kind of evil. I was familiar with the usual bullying that happens between fellows competitively. I was familiar with family dysfunctions that leave their mark. I was challenged and intrigued with the dynamics of war. I was very familiar with pharisaical evils – the battle or prayers and the competition of piety and religiosity between pastors, churches and denominations.
But I wasn’t familiar with this…sexual dominance and cruelty so (and remember we didn’t have search engines during this time) so I bought a book, Helter Skelter: The True Story of The Manson Murders by Vincent Bugliosi and Curt Gentry
This book is about one of the most heinous crimes ever committed. Written in simple, clear, almost surgical language, it demands the reader's full attention and leads us right into the hell of one of the most evil minds to have walked this earth, the mind of Charles Manson - the Manson murders of 1969
Unravelling this kind of depravity - forced me to face the reality of human kind and I had some choices to make – one was never to indulge in this kind of insanity and to remove myself from the evil intention.
Instead I would work on helping children to get to know a God who cared for them. I would turn my anger and disgust into positive energy towards children. As my forefathers had modelled to us, I would turn our swords into plough shears. So glad that I had a job where I could work out this new ambition.
And lastly but not least was the example of Candace herself….
She chose sacrifice over fear. This is the story that led us and continues to lead us through the horrors of the murder.
Candace had gone to babysit at a neighbor's house across the back alley. Around ten o'clock she had called Wilma. "Mom, the kids are in bed. I'm playing video games. Can you come? I'm scared." Wilma went over to be with her.
Apparently she had inadvertently watched a horror movie at a friend's house. She described the movie in detail.
After listening and talking about her dreams, her fears, and other things, Wilma had responded with a pat answer, "Candace, you can't let fear rule your life. When you are afraid, pray that God will protect you."
Candace was not satisfied. “Can you tell me, honestly, that if I pray to God to protect me, that nothing will ever hurt me again?" So much for Sunday school answers.
I had asked the same question when I had been held at knife point and suffered “missionary burnout.”
We had worked through some of this with a relative who also ministered in a northern community and had come to terms with danger and threats to his life, we asked him what had helped him. He told us of his assurance that should God cut off his life in a premature and violent way, his death, then, would have more of an impact than the rest of his life would have had.
We told Candace the story. Death was not the worst option. To live a life with no value and no meaning was far more tragic.
Wilma actually told her that if her life was committed to God and she died a violent early death, God would use her death to have more of an impact than her life. Oh, how glibly we speak!
Now she had been murdered…. "How do we do that?"
It meant that we needed to say yes to whatever door her story would open.
The first good thing that came out of it was the suggestion of the swimming pool. We just watched it grow naturally.
It started at the funeral when I announced it, but money for the swimming pool was still coming in after the funeral. And the people who had donated to the fund were beginning to visit the camp and ask where the swimming pool was going to be. Dave Loewen felt that it would be appropriate to have a memorial for the people to see. He wondered if a plaque might serve as an intermediate memorial and asked if we would help in the design of it. We agreed. But a plaque seemed such a cold way to remember; Candace already had a tombstone. We wanted something that would be worth looking at, something that would tell her story.
We asked Dave if, instead of a plaque, we could design a permanent storyboard of the event, a collection of all the newspaper articles and a few pictures arranged in a durable historical marker-type frame. That way if people hadn't heard of Candace, didn't know her story, they would still find the memorial meaningful.
Dedication service for the Candace Derksen Memorial Swimming Pool built at Camp Arnes was held on October 26, 1986, a little more than a year after Candace went missing. This was only the beginning of the good things that came out of her death.
Justice wouldn't have satisfied us, but love unleashed in the forgiveness we offered, did. In fact Candace didn't die. She is still alive in many ways. The impact of her death has had as much impact on our lives and others - as if she had lived.
We discovered that her memory - her story - has power. See the
https://www.candacederksen.com/ website for more information.
So back to the question - how were we able to forgive? We had a lot of help. We see the fingerprints of God all over this.
"How does the ocean say hi?"
It waves!
**********
Over the years we have constantly been asked.... "What about forgiveness? Why did you choose it? Was it the right choice? How do you forgive something so unforgiveable as the murder of your child? How did we find the way to healing?
First of all, I need to acknowledge that we had a lot of help along the way.
In hindsight, I will always be grateful for our ten o’clock stranger, the parent of a murdered child who came to warn us of what to expect. It felt inappropriate but it was what was needed at the time. We saw with clarity what we were up against.
I am also glad we chose the word “forgiveness” in response to the trauma manifesting on our bed so early in the process and with such intentionally. We saw it work - and we saw it slither off the bed.
I am also glad for the press conference –that dramatic moment that forced us to say it out loud. Making the commitment public helped keep us accountable. Forgiveness is a moving target. Being forced to declare it to the world was setting up an acceptable form of accountability….Much like wedding vows - we say we love each other and then learn what that means for the rest of the marriage.
Another turning point was at the funeral home when I chose to encase the coffin in a cement vault. That choice was another early sign that I felt guilty for not being able to protect Candace. It really started with that simple act of sacrificing to protect Candace and thereby forgiving myself.
Behind the scenes I took another important step and educated myself on the act of murder. Who would tie up a 13-year girl and then leave her in a deserted shed to freeze to death? What type of man would indulge in that kind of evil - which we knew even back then that it had sexual overtones?
I realized I wasn’t familiar with this kind of evil. I was familiar with the usual bullying that happens between fellows competitively. I was familiar with family dysfunctions that leave their mark. I was challenged and intrigued with the dynamics of war. I was very familiar with pharisaical evils – the battle or prayers and the competition of piety and religiosity between pastors, churches and denominations.
But I wasn’t familiar with this…sexual dominance and cruelty so (and remember we didn’t have search engines during this time) so I bought a book, Helter Skelter: The True Story of The Manson Murders by Vincent Bugliosi and Curt Gentry
This book is about one of the most heinous crimes ever committed. Written in simple, clear, almost surgical language, it demands the reader's full attention and leads us right into the hell of one of the most evil minds to have walked this earth, the mind of Charles Manson - the Manson murders of 1969
Unravelling this kind of depravity - forced me to face the reality of human kind and I had some choices to make – one was never to indulge in this kind of insanity and to remove myself from the evil intention.
Instead I would work on helping children to get to know a God who cared for them. I would turn my anger and disgust into positive energy towards children. As my forefathers had modelled to us, I would turn our swords into plough shears. So glad that I had a job where I could work out this new ambition.
And lastly but not least was the example of Candace herself….
She chose sacrifice over fear. This is the story that led us and continues to lead us through the horrors of the murder.
Candace had gone to babysit at a neighbor's house across the back alley. Around ten o'clock she had called Wilma. "Mom, the kids are in bed. I'm playing video games. Can you come? I'm scared." Wilma went over to be with her.
Apparently she had inadvertently watched a horror movie at a friend's house. She described the movie in detail.
After listening and talking about her dreams, her fears, and other things, Wilma had responded with a pat answer, "Candace, you can't let fear rule your life. When you are afraid, pray that God will protect you."
Candace was not satisfied. “Can you tell me, honestly, that if I pray to God to protect me, that nothing will ever hurt me again?" So much for Sunday school answers.
I had asked the same question when I had been held at knife point and suffered “missionary burnout.”
We had worked through some of this with a relative who also ministered in a northern community and had come to terms with danger and threats to his life, we asked him what had helped him. He told us of his assurance that should God cut off his life in a premature and violent way, his death, then, would have more of an impact than the rest of his life would have had.
We told Candace the story. Death was not the worst option. To live a life with no value and no meaning was far more tragic.
Wilma actually told her that if her life was committed to God and she died a violent early death, God would use her death to have more of an impact than her life. Oh, how glibly we speak!
Now she had been murdered…. "How do we do that?"
It meant that we needed to say yes to whatever door her story would open.
The first good thing that came out of it was the suggestion of the swimming pool. We just watched it grow naturally.
It started at the funeral when I announced it, but money for the swimming pool was still coming in after the funeral. And the people who had donated to the fund were beginning to visit the camp and ask where the swimming pool was going to be. Dave Loewen felt that it would be appropriate to have a memorial for the people to see. He wondered if a plaque might serve as an intermediate memorial and asked if we would help in the design of it. We agreed. But a plaque seemed such a cold way to remember; Candace already had a tombstone. We wanted something that would be worth looking at, something that would tell her story.
We asked Dave if, instead of a plaque, we could design a permanent storyboard of the event, a collection of all the newspaper articles and a few pictures arranged in a durable historical marker-type frame. That way if people hadn't heard of Candace, didn't know her story, they would still find the memorial meaningful.
Dedication service for the Candace Derksen Memorial Swimming Pool built at Camp Arnes was held on October 26, 1986, a little more than a year after Candace went missing. This was only the beginning of the good things that came out of her death.
Justice wouldn't have satisfied us, but love unleashed in the forgiveness we offered, did. In fact Candace didn't die. She is still alive in many ways. The impact of her death has had as much impact on our lives and others - as if she had lived.
We discovered that her memory - her story - has power. See the
https://www.candacederksen.com/ website for more information.
So back to the question - how were we able to forgive? We had a lot of help. We see the fingerprints of God all over this.
"Forgiveness is not always easy.
At times, it feels more painful than the wound we suffered....
And yet, there is no peace without forgiveness."
- Marianne Williamson
At times, it feels more painful than the wound we suffered....
And yet, there is no peace without forgiveness."
- Marianne Williamson
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