Women Who Inspire: Brandi Housley

Brandi Housley so graciously shares the story of her 19 year old daughter, Hannah, who was tragically killed in a car wreck this past summer. Although still trying to process the grief herself, Brandi still reaches out to help others. She shares with us the story of her faith and of her fears, as she gives us a glimpse into the heart of a grieving mother who wants nothing more than to tell others about Jesus. Brandi is truly a woman who inspires.

Joy Mathis Chadwick: Brandi, please introduce yourself and your family to the readers of Christian Women Living Magazine and tell us about your daily routine.
Brandi Housley: I am currently the K-12 Instructional Facilitator and high school librarian (my dream job) at our local school district; prior to that I taught 7th and 8th grade Language Arts for 8 years. My husband, Scott, and I have been married for 26 years. He is a lineman at Petit Jean Electric. We have a small cattle “ranch”. We attend Harriet 1st Assembly of God.

Our son, Jack and his wife, Rose, have given us our current joy, Lily Grace. She will soon be two years old.

Our daughter, Hannah, graduated from high school in 2019 and had finished her first year at North Arkansas College. She was just a few weeks away from moving to Arkansas Tech in Russellville. She planned to double major in Psychology and Rehabilitation Sciences with the goal of becoming a mental health counselor; she wanted to focus on young adults and kids; she felt that this was her calling. I have had so many people message me or tell me what a great friend she was to them. So many even said that they weren’t really friends but she was always someone they could count on to listen to them and give them good advice. She also always tried to make everyone feel welcome and important. I have been amazed at the response of people who have told me how they felt she went out of her way to be inclusive to everyone. I think she would have made the best counselor; she really cared for people and she always wanted everyone around to be happy and feel good, one of the many reasons why people were so drawn to her.

JMC: You and your family have suffered the unimaginable loss of your precious daughter, Hannah; yet throughout your journey, you have remained positive and uplifting; many times you were the one comforting others as we, too, process this loss. Please tell us about Hannah and how your faith in God has sustained you.
BH: Hannah was just so full of life. If she was anywhere around, you knew it; she could chatter for hours and she told the best stories. She could turn the most ordinary story of her day into something that would make me just roll with laughter. She never missed a detail. She was quick with a smile and a hug, and honestly, she just had the best laugh. And she loved to make others laugh. When we are in the moment of “living” I don’t think we always recognize those special qualities in our kids, or just people in general, but Hannah had a way of including everyone around her, making them feel special; she took the time to talk and laugh with everyone she was around. She was beautiful. She was smart. She could sing like an angel. She taught herself to play the ukulele when she was probably 14; she followed that by teaching herself to play the piano at 15. I can’t say it enough; she was just FULL OF LIFE. When Hannah was around, you just gravitated to her; she was just one of those personalities you wanted to be around.

She had just turned four years old when her dad and I truly got back into church, so Hannah grew up really not knowing anything different; if there was church, we were there. We were youth pastors at Marshall Assembly of God and later Scott pastored the Welcome Home Church. Through these various experiences, Hannah was introduced to missions. She participated in several mission trips in the southwestern United States, so she grew up surrounded by people, all kinds of people, and she loved people. She was social and friendly to everyone. She loved kids, particularly all the little ones we met on these trips.

Her social “skills” and her love of talking to anyone about anything could also get her in trouble. She didn’t really have a filter; she still didn’t have a great one at 19; if she thought it, you would know it. Her face always gave her away, too; she loved people but she wasn’t patient with what she thought was nonsense.

As far as my faith in God, it’s what we have taught our kids; we lean on the Lord. We listen to Him. We trust Him. So I lean on that faith to sustain me; now it’s not talking about it, but it’s action; now I have to walk it; every day, walking in faith, literally. I don’t know how people survive the loss of a child without the Lord. I just don’t know what hope there would be without the cross and the hope of Heaven.

JMC: Recently you shared this quote on Facebook: “Where there is hope, there is faith. Where there is faith, miracles happen.” You went on to make this beautiful comment, “Amongst a thousand voices, He hears mine.” Has there been a time in the last few months that you felt that God didn’t hear you? Have you had your miracle?
BH: I love this quote but I can’t take credit for it. There is an Assembly of God missionary that we have come to “know” via Facebook and she shared that quote and tagged me in it. God has a way of doing things that are so completely mind-blowing that you KNOW that He was in every aspect of it. That is how I have come to know Kendra (the missionary). God connected us with perfect timing and a perfect mission. Her post was a praise for that connection. I tell you, when God connects a grieving mother in the hills of Searcy County, Arkansas, to a missionary in Nicaragua with such precision and perfect timing, it is overwhelming and humbling to be reminded that He does hear our voices; He really does. Out of all the people in the world, He truly does hear our prayers and more importantly He listens and answers! As far as my miracle, I have to believe that God has blessed me with miracles I won’t even know about until Heaven; that’s what He does. I believe He has sent me what I call “God winks”. There was one particular morning where I was really struggling. I was up, getting ready for work, very emotional; It had only been a couple of weeks without Hannah. I looked out the kitchen window and there was the most beautiful, vibrant rainbow I had ever seen. I stepped outside onto the porch and it was actually a double rainbow, literally planted in my driveway. I believe that God speaks to us in a multitude of ways and I knew that it was Him reminding me that she was okay. And reminding me that I would be okay too. What more of a miracle could I ask for than to know she is safely secure in the arms of Jesus? That double rainbow is my Facebook cover photo; when I look at it on my phone (even though that picture cannot come close to the vibrance of that moment), the end of one rainbow is over Hannah’s part of the picture. When I need to be reminded, I go to that. God is good to me. He knows I search for Him in the big and small and He honors that with God winks that are just for me. That’s a miracle in itself.

The double rainbows are so special to me. Rainbows symbolize God’s promises. Hannah is a promise. She’s my promise. And who could I trust more to hold on to my promises than God; so she’s a promise. He’s my promise keeper. I know that I know that I know that He’s real, that Heaven is real, that Hannah is there, and someday I plan to make it there as well. I have pain, unbelievable pain, but I keep walking. I keep trusting. Do I believe every word God has said is true? I do, and because I do, I have to keep walking, trusting; I have a destination ahead, not behind, ahead; and that is where my focus has to stay. He is good. Every day of my life He has been good. He’s shown it in the big things and He’s shown it in those things that are just for me (God winks). So when I struggle, or when I suffer through a day, I keep my focus on the promises of God, and I stir up every good memory, every time God has done something just for me, and I hold on with all I have.

JMC: Do you think if you knew the reason why Hannah was taken so young that it would lessen your grief? Do you still believe that God has a perfect plan for our lives, even through such times as this?
BH: I have thought about this so many times; I have asked God this so many times. I have asked him to help me understand, but each and every time I have asked this, I immediately know that there isn’t any answer that would help lessen my grief here on this earth. I do believe God has a perfect plan for our lives. As hard as it is to accept that a 19 year old could have fulfilled that plan for her life, I can still find peace in knowing that God is in control. This is a learning experience for me also; learning to put my faith into action. All the things I have been taught, all the things I believe, Hannah’s death has been a call to action. I have lost people that I loved dearly; I have grieved them and I have faith I will see them again. But for me, losing Hannah, my child – I mean she grew inside of me, literally part of me – to lose her has made Heaven so much more real. I always believed but now I BELIEVE. And now there is absolutely nothing more important than doing what needs to be done to make it there and to ensure that as many go with me as possible. I don’t know what God has planned, but if/when He opens doors to use me, I’m going through and will work to the best of my ability to do whatever He asks of me.

JMC: Brandi, your Facebook friends love your posts every Tuesday about Hannah. Please tell us about “Hannah Tuesday.”
BH: Well I would say it was accidental, but I really don’t believe in accidents. Hannah was born on a Tuesday. That always stuck with me because at some point, I had read an old fairy tale of sorts that said, “Monday’s child is fair of face, Tuesday’s child is full of grace.” Hannah’s brother, Jack, was born on a Monday; Hannah on a Tuesday; her middle name was Grace; so that poem always just stuck in the back of my mind.

Tuesday nights were the nights the whole family gathered together for dinner. We started it right before Covid hit; we just decided we would do one night a week where the whole family would actually sit at the dinner table and spend time together. No one would make other plans on a Tuesday night, so we had done that all through spring and into summer. We had eaten dinner the Tuesday night she passed; I can very clearly see her sitting at the dinner table with Lily in her lap. Lily liked the looks of Hannah’s dinner better than her own and so they were eating together – with their fingers I might add – out of Hannah’s plate. It’s a sweet memory. She had her accident later that evening.

For me, I began counting days without Hannah. Seven days passed and then I began marking by weeks, so of course every Tuesday marked another week without her. When I first began Hannah Tuesday, it was just as a way to keep me from bombarding Facebook with everything I was feeling or thinking. It was a way for me to focus on one thing at a time and really allow myself to be led about what I would share and how I would share it. It comes from a need to not let her be forgotten. I try to keep it positive but some weeks it’s just hard. It’s hard to be positive when I miss her so very much, but I want God to be glorified. I don’t want Hannah’s death to just be something that happened, some sad event, some terrible accident. I want to believe that God will use her life to help others find their way. It’s me being selfish in just not wanting her death to be for nothing; it needs to be for something. It goes back to God’s plan. I don’t know what it is; I am not sure I am happy with it right now, but whether I am happy with it or not, I trust it because I trust Him. So I trudge on. I am trying to be teachable. I am trying to listen. I am trying to learn to live without Hannah here. So Hannah Tuesday is a way to focus some of what I am feeling and share Hannah. God sent her to me on a Tuesday and he took her home on a Tuesday. I have no idea how long the Facebook version of Hannah Tuesdays will last, but for me, Tuesdays will always be for Hannah.

JMC: You have been a teacher for several years and have mothered lots of kids in your classroom. How has the loss of your child changed the way you minister to “your kids” at school?
BH: This year I have my dream job as the school librarian, but I am not the same person who worked so hard to get this dream job. So this year, there are so many kids who have done for me what I tried to do for some of them. They are being so very sweet and kind. I have received so many sweet gifts, pictures. They just come and visit me. Tell me they are checking in on me. I can’t tell you what that means to me. And even in the middle of a pandemic, their hugs have been the best! I miss hugs – especially Hannah hugs. I am trying to be even more like Hannah. I am trying to remember that regardless of how I feel or what I am thinking, that I want each of these kids to feel included and loved, even for just the few moments we have together. I look them in the eye, call them by name, ask about their day; little things, but things to try to let them know I care and that they matter. They need that; everybody needs that. But some of these kids don’t get it unless we give it to them here at school, so I try to remember to be kind and I hope they can sense that about me.

JMC: Experts tell us that there are five stages throughout the grieving process, and one of those stages is anger. (And it’s okay to be angry.) Have you been angry with God? Have you been angry with Hannah? How do you work through that?
BH: I wouldn’t say that I have been angry at God; I have questioned why. I am not happy with this plan, but I trust Him, so I am trying to trust the plan. Since the beginning I have had a deep feeling, understanding, something, that this was for the best. That sounds terrible but something deep in my spirit knows this is right, even though it hurts more than I ever thought anything could. So I am not necessarily angry; I just miss her. I miss the everyday ordinary things. Some days I have to literally walk myself through the steps; this is real; we had a funeral; it’s not a dream.

So I don’t know where I am in the grief process. But wherever I am – it’s hard. It’s watching the same video (and thank God for videos) 100 times in a row because I miss her so much. It’s picking up the phone to text her and realizing I can’t. It’s looking at her picture first thing every morning and remembering she is gone. It’s keeping myself busy, busy, busy during the day and then crying myself to sleep at night. It’s a terrifying feeling that something else bad might happen; it’s praying and begging God NOT to make that part of the plan. It’s wanting to feel “normal” but feeling guilty because would “normal” mean I don’t miss her or don’t honor her the way I should?

So I don’t feel anger at God; I feel anger but it often gets directed toward people (I’m sorry to those people) who I think aren’t doing what they should be doing or aren’t doing it to my liking or to my timetable; just frustration, lots of frustration. It’s feeling like I’m in limbo and that’s frustrating. It’s like, okay God, You did this; this is the plan so let’s get on with the part where her death somehow makes a difference. I can’t see it though. He may never let me see it, but I just pray that somewhere, someone has been impacted by her, by me, by Scott; something that makes some eternal impact. Is that selfish to want someone to make a change, to make Heaven because of MY KID, something I do or say? It may be; I don’t know but that is what I think would make this mean something to me, because that’s the hardest part; her death CANNOT be for NOTHING. It has to mean something. By faith, I know it means something. Even if I can’t see it, God is working it for good. I believe that. I hang on to that with all I have.

JMC: Please tell us about your salvation experience. How has the loss of your daughter changed your testimony?
BH: I was raised in church by grandparents that took us everytime the church doors were open. I was saved at a young age and through my teenage and young adult years, I think I did about every stupid thing I (or anyone else) could think of. Becoming a mom changed things for me. It made me begin to focus on a life outside my own. I always went to church because that is what you do, but Scott and I really got back into church for good when Hannah was almost four. He was called to preach years before that and we even pastored a youth group and then a church for a few years. So I have known about God all my life and He has made Himself real to me in a multitude of ways, but I can honestly say that I feel Him more since Hannah’s loss than ever before. I know it’s because I have stopped focusing on all the “stuff” of life and I am instead focused on Him. Heaven is more real than ever; a million times more real. I feel like in some weird way God has been preparing me for this moment, which sounds crazy, but then again, He knows the plan, right? So really, it’s not crazy to think He has been somehow preparing us for this. My Uncle Dale lost a teenage son in an accident. Mom was in her early 20s and she noticed how through every stage of that process, Uncle Dale was continually praising and thanking God. She said at the time she thought that was the strangest thing she had ever seen and couldn’t understand HOW he could praise God when he had just lost his son. Almost 30 years later, she finally asked him about it. He told her that praise was the quickest way to God and he had needed Him so desperately so that is what he had done; he raised his hands and praised God.

The night that our community was searching for Hannah, not yet knowing about the wreck, and we were standing on the sidewalk in front of the sheriff’s office, not knowing if Hannah was okay, but somehow knowing she wasn’t, the story about my Uncle Dale came back to me. So that is what I did that night; I praised God. I asked Him to protect her, that she would be okay, but if she wasn’t, that He wouldn’t leave her alone; that He would be with her and that He would take her home. I know that is what He did. So on the darkest days, when things hurt the most, I praise God. I thank Him for Hannah’s life, for the precious years that we had together, and I thank Him for His Son, Jesus Christ, the One who is our hope for Heaven; my peace, my comfort.

JMC: What is your most favorite memory of Hannah?
BH: I have so many memories of Hannah. We have literally been all over the world together; we did more in her short lifetime than some get to do in 75 years, so I recognize how truly blessed our years were, even if there weren’t nearly enough of them.

One of my favorite just funny memories is from a trip that Hannah, her dad, and I took to Yellowstone several summers ago. She was 15. Somewhere in the middle of Wyoming in a random conversation, she said she really thought she didn’t want to live much past 25 because she didn’t want to live in her “less than awesome” years. She proceeded to explain why; it was because of all the downfalls of a life lived past 25 (remember she was a storyteller) and in the middle of it she realized what she was doing. She then looked at me and said, “Not that you’re not awesome, Mom.” I threatened to leave her in the middle of Wyoming, but then we laughed and laughed at that – for years.

I think of that often now, mostly because of the circumstances I find myself in; she will always be 19 years old, young, beautiful, full of life, no “less than awesome” years for Hannah.

JMC: What do you think Hannah’s first day in Heaven was like?
BH: I believe that when the call went out in Heaven that she was coming home that there were so many who were waiting to welcome her. Some she knew in her life, and some she had only heard stories about. Truthfully, I haven’t allowed myself to think about that much. I know it’s real, but currently, I just can’t let my mind dwell there yet. It’s a comfort, but it’s not a comfort. That may not make sense, by MY mind just isn’t ready for that. I find comfort in the general idea that she is in Heaven; she is safe; she is surrounded by people that love her; she is worshipping at the feet of Jesus. I just cannot imagine what it’s like for her. I do have a more intense awareness of Heaven; it was always real before, but now it’s truly real. I just haven’t dwelt on the specifics yet; I am sure I will at some point. Maybe.

JMC: What advice would you like to give to other mothers who have lost a child?
BH: I’m not sure it’s good advice, but it’s where I find myself: you just have to let yourself grieve. Most days I feel like I have a split personality because one moment I am fine and the next I am not. I want to be okay, or at least, I want people to think I am okay, but at three months without Hannah, I am learning I just have to let it be. I am not okay. And because I am not okay in this area of my life, I want every other area to be smooth and easy and when it isn’t, I get super frustrated. I want to rush myself along to the point where I can be thankful that she lived and not be focused on the fact that she died; but right now, it is hard not to think about all the things we are missing. One day I can be positive and thankful for all the great memories we have – and we have a lifetime worth – but the next day is a totally different story, a day where I have to WORK hard to just do the little things and not just be a complete mess. So my advice: don’t try to “fix” yourself. You can’t. There is nothing “wrong” with you; you are just learning how to live without a part of you that meant so much. Just talk to God; I tell Him everything – the good, the bad, and the inbetween. He knows my heart, and I like to believe that maybe He has a soft spot for parents who lose a child; after all, He has experienced it too, grief and pain so deep He had to turn His back. He knows what we feel. Though I don’t know how, I know there will come a day when I will look back at where He has brought me from. I just have to try to keep looking forward and keep my eyes on Him. I am not happy with the “plan”, but I trust that He knows best.

JMC: What advice do you think Hannah would give YOU as she looks down from Heaven?
BH: I think she would tell me to stop worrying about everything, that she is good. I have had one dream since she passed where I could see her. She just stood there and smiled at me, a big smile, twinkling eyes. The Friday before she passed away, I was talking with her and one of her friends while we were driving down the road. We were talking about life and I don’t even know how Heaven came up, but I made the comment that when I was her age I was afraid of Heaven; not necessarily afraid I wouldn’t make it, but afraid of what I would miss on earth – getting married, having babies, etc. – all the things most of us look forward to on earth. I told her we couldn’t even fathom what Heaven would be like, how all the things that seem so perfect here on earth wouldn’t even compare to what it is like to worship in the throne room. I told her we wouldn’t miss a thing down here because every need, every want, would be fulfilled in the presence of Jesus. So I pray that she’d tell me I was right, that Heaven is everything and more.

JMC: Is there anything else on your heart that you would like to share?
BH: I would just like to say that the greatest comfort I have is knowing that Hannah is in the arms of Jesus. She was far from perfect. We look back on all the good things, the good memories, but Hannah was just like any other 19 year old; she was making her way, making choices. Not all of her choices were on target, but she was learning. Even though her path may have been bumpy in parts, she loved Jesus. She knew Jesus. She knew what it was to allow Him to lead and guide her. There is only one way to heaven, and that way is Jesus. Nothing else matters except choosing Jesus. I know that when Hannah took her last breath on this earth, He was with her. He scooped her right up and deposited her at the gates of Glory. That’s my comfort. That’s my hope.

JMC: Please keep the Housley family in your prayers as they continue to process their lives without Hannah. We all need to hug our kids a little tighter after reading Brandi’s heartwarming account of her child taken too soon.

Thank you Brandi for sharing your story, your hope and your strength with the readers of Christian Women Living Magazine.