Time Passes Still...

Time has passed. It passes still.
It moves, it flows, against my will.
8 years?  Can it be?  It feels like a distant memory.
When I held you, cradled you, and gazed at your eyes of green.

Sweet soft skin, so pure so white.
Curly cues that swept off to the right.
So many frightened unknowing nights.
Gave way to new mornings and renewed sight.

I never knew just how much my heart would cope.
How it would writher and twist and then still hold out for hope.
You taught me sweet girl how to be gentle yet strong
That it was ok to accept the help that came along.

The hugs, the notes, the words of love and care
Brought sustenance and life like my lungs needed air.
The sorrow, the pain, and the hollow I still feel
Remind me that 8 years is not long enough to heal.

Forever I will carry you with me in precious memory
I am thankful for the pain, and in it, the boundless beauty
For time stops for no one.  No, it doesn't stop for me
Yet I can slow my thoughts and relish in a memory.

Perhaps the time you smiled at your Daddy
I still see it now, oh how it made us so happy.
Or the time you sang along with your sister,
Or turned your head to gaze at your brother.

My favourite moments though, were in the still of the night
When you would speak to me in love with all your might.
Not through words but in the love that shone in your eyes
You shared with me your heart as I sang to you lullabies.

Precious moments, memories and lessons more precious that gold.
I will forever cherish in my heart, and tightly I will hold.
For time waits for no one, I have learned with much sorrow.
And so I choose to love well today and not wait for tomorrow.

When Mother's Day is NOT happy....

First of all, let me say - Happy Mother's Day!  Yes, for the majority of the world, celebrating one's Mother is a beautiful and happy occasion!  There are flowers & cards sent, facebook tributes, lunch dates and dinner plans that just might end with a sweet treat, and it is ALL lovely!

There are those however, that find themselves in conflict on this day because it conjurs up all sorts of mixed emotions.  There are those who do not have a positive relationship with their mothers, those who have just lost their own mother's, those that have lost the chance to be a mother, those that long to be a mother, and those who (like me) are grieving mothers.  

I remember the first Mother's Day that wasn't all flowers and rainbows for me.  It was my first mother's day with Grace.  It was a lovely Sunday morning, and the little shakes I had seen randomly the week before, were no longer random.  The voice in my head that was trying so desperately to convince the mother's intuition within me was starting to gain ground.  I could no longer ignore the twitches.  Gracie was having seizures.  I did not go to church with my two older babes and hubby, instead I spent the morning and afternoon in an over-crowded ER room, counting each and every little twitch.  I watched Grace's sweet, soft, lilly white hands tighten and then ever so gentlty shake, then stop.  It was there in that ER that I knew my Mother's Day would never be the same.

Perhaps others of you  have had similar moments. For you, maybe it was the first time Mother's Day came around and and your own Mom was no longer there to celebrate, on this side of heaven anyways.   Or perhaps the bleak moment of your first un-Mother's Day was sitting in a maternity hospital bed, empty handed and broken hearted.  Perhaps, for you, it's yet another reminder that you have not yet conceived and the niggling feeling that maybe there's a problem forms that all too familiar lump in your throat.  Or maybe you are mourning the loss of a relationship, and what once was a beautiful day of remembrance and celebration is now fractured and you are left trying to figure out how it will sift out?  

No matter the source of the pain, this day will always be bittersweet for some of us.

So what do you say to your friend whose miscarried her precious babe?  How do you broach the subject with a friend who you know has been trying to get pregnant, but can't?  How do you comfort a friend who is feeling orphaned as an adult becuase their mom has died?  What do you say to a mother of a terminally ill child, who wonders how many more Mother's Days does she have left with her precious child?  How do you cheer up your single friend who so longs to find the 'one' and become a mother herself?

If I could give any words of advice from my own experience of what I needed to hear in my own grieving moments it would be the following....

"I can't begin to imagine the pain you are in, nor would I ever want to add to that pain.  Just know that I am here for you when and if you need to me.  If you need a distraction and just want to escape the pain for awhile - then I'm here for you.  If you need to hash it out and cry and vent, then I am here for you too.  You are not alone.  I am here to journey with you, following your lead and in your time.  And even if you feel alone in your grief...you are not alone."

That's all we can offer.  I wish I could offer you a special healing balm that takes away the pain, but there is not one to be found.  Grief is hard work. The greatest gift you can give is your PRESENCE.  I know some of you might be tempted to say things like "I'm praying for you" or "she's in a better place" or "time will heal." Although those statements are beautiful, they aren't enough.  Words are wonderful, but they are not enough, being the hands and feet of Jesus to this broken world around us IS the next step after the beautiful sentiment of words and prayers. Please don't misunderstand me.  I believe in the power of prayer and believe that peace and comfort is found in Christ, for I have experienced that love and peace first hand!  What I AM saying is that, we also have the amazing privilege to be the tangible love of Christ to this broken world.

So if  you know of someone who might be somewhere on this bittersweet spectrum this weekend, offer them the gift of your presence. 

Proverbs 17:17A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.

What I Learned about Grief from Cinderella

Often times unknowingly, I view life through the lens of grief.  Last night while watching Disney's CINDERELLA, I had an 'a-ha' moment.  It truly is a beautiful and magical movie depicting the strength of character and true beauty.  Yet, this movie is wrought with grief.  This enchanting movie begins with a love story.  You can feel the love, the deep love between Ella and her mother and father.  You can't help but smile as you see them enwrapped in their joyous, happy, and blissful love.  When we love much, we grieve much for we understand the depth of losing such a radiant love.  Sweet little Ella loses her beloved mother and my mama's heart breaks for her as she drinks up her mother's dying last words.  This fiercely loving mother charges her darling daughter to have courage and to be kind and that these two attributes will see her through to the end of time.  Ella embodies courage and kindess throughout her life and at times, uses much restraint in honor of her mother's words.

In another sorrowful twisted turn, she loses her doting father and her beautiful world collapses in the cruel hands of her step-mother.  As she sleeps by the fire to keep warm, the cinders from the dying fire fall on her and thus she acquires the name, Cinder-ella.  I have seen various Cinderella movies and read various story lines, and have found that more often than not, the cruelty of the wicked step-mother and sisters is seen through the lens of jealousy.  They are either jealous of Cinderella's beauty, or of the love Cinderella and her father shared, or at times jealous of her kindess of spirit.  In this intricately woven story I saw both of the main characters, the evil step mother and Cinderella, through the lens of GRIEF.

In one scene, Cinderella finally speaks up for herself and gut-wrenchingly questions her step mother as to why she must be so cruel?   I could see the pain in her step mother's eyes.  The harshness in her face and eyes relents for a moment as she says it's because Cinderella is pure and innocent. Yes, she was jealous of Cinderella, but perhaps not because of her beauty, not even by her goodness, but rather by how Cinderella continues to bloom and blossom despite of pain and sorrow.  She too has felt deep love and tasted bitter loss, but instead the step-mother chose to grow hard and angry.  Watching Cinderella choose life and live it with courage and kindess was like salt in her own sorrowful wounds.

Grief.  It is such a powerful emotion and encompasses all others.  You can feel happy and still grieve.  You can feel angry and still grieve.  You can feel sad and still grieve.  Grief bleeds through all other emotions and hightens them.  Grief changes you.  You can not remain the same, whether you want it to or not, it changes you.  Your pre-grief shape no longer exists, and with that realization comes a deep sense of loss of self and the fear of the unknown.  All that you once knew of love and security is gone and you find yourself teetering  on the edge of uncertainty and confusion.  You have no choice, there is no going back.  You must move forward with courage or stay still paralyzed in fear. And here we find the dichotomy between Cinderella and her step-mother.  One chooses to move gingerly forward in courage, compelled by kindess, forgiveness and love, and the other remains entangled in fear and ensnared in anger.

If you let it though, grief can re-shape you into a new and beautiful creation.  Or it can warp you into a twisted version of your former self.  If you allow the pain of grief to sweep over you and trust that God can make beauty from ashes, you can beautifully emerge from the deep chasm of grief as Cinderella did with courage and kindess.  Or, you can thrash against grief, allowing yourself to become engulfed in the deep darkness and seething anger, as did the step-mother.

To live through grief takes courage and kindess, especially with yourself.  It takes courage to move forward when all you want to do is retreat.  It takes kindess to be gracious with yourself when you catch yourself in a moment of joy, smiling at the beauty that is still found in the life around you.  As I walked away from the magical movie, hand in hand with my own sweet little princess, I felt so thankful and blessed that we as a family have chosen to walk our grief journey with courage and with kindness.

If you are in a place of grief today, whether it be the loss of a loved one, loss of a job, or even the loss of a relationship, my prayer is that you would walk forward with courage and kindness and choose to rise from the ashes.  May you, like Cinderella allow beauty to come from the cinders of a broken life and allow God to make beauty from the ashes.


Isaiah 61: 3
...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of joy,  instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise,  instead of a spirit of despair...

Here is a picture of Cinderella and our real life princess, Olivia.  There is no question that our family is a 'Disney Family'.  If we could go every year for the rest of our lives, we would!  It holds a special place in our hearts because some of our first moments of real joy in sorrow were found there.  xoxo

The Price of LOVE

Seven years ago, on the day of love, you were born.  Our beautifully perfect, imperfect Valentine.  The odds were against you.  But, odds meant nothing to you.  You were our gentle warrior and your spirit and heart were stronger than your physical frame.  Your spirit and your heart belonged to us, your family.  You taught us the very meaning of love.

Love is believing to hope when all else fails.  Love motivates you to seek answers even when you are told there are none.  Love doesn't give up when the doctors do.  Love is what keeps you breathing when your reality meets the inevitable and sucks all the air out from within you.  Love allows you to celebrate a life when all you want to do is mourn it.  Love propels you to help othes, when you would rather retreat.  Love is beauty and love is pain.

Six years ago, on March 2, 11:30pm your spirit left your beautiful earthly vessel in the most divine of moments.  The rush in the room was nothing short of miraculous as you opened your eyes and awoke and for but a moment and we saw you healed, whole, and beautiful.  Then in an instant...you, your spirit, that sweet gentle warrior within you, was gone.  I felt the exchange as you, our Sleeping Beauty awoke to the Prince of Peace.  A moment, I will never forget.

Your heart kept beating though; all night I waited with you in some sort of a backward birthing process.  Each breath like a contraction pulling you further away until at last, at 5:30 am March 3rd, 2009 you took your last sweet breath and your heart finally relenquished the fight.  In that darkest night of the soul, there was so much sadness, and so much pain.

Yet, as we held your brother and sister close last night as they cried for you, we remember more than these unbearable moments of pain.

We remember the LOVE.

And oh, how we LOVED.

Grief never ends, but it changes. It’s a passage, 

not a place to stay. The sense of loss must give way 

If we are to value the life that was lived 

Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor lack of faith 

IT IS THE PRICE OF LOVE.

Anonymous

A Light in Dark Places

Instead of New Year's Resolutions, I have taken on a new tradition.  Thanks to one of my kindred spirits, Monica, I have taken on her tradition of choosing a theme verse for the year.  God has been placing the words "a light in dark places" in my heart and spirit for quite some time now, so it seemed only fitting that Matthew 5:14-16 be my prayer for this new year, 2015.  The lessons learned through Grace's beautiful life, will always shine through me.  It's always bittersweet starting a new year without her.  In some ways a new year will always bring a bitter reminder of the loss, yet on the other hand I have the beautiful and sweet reminder that I am one year closer to seeing her again.  Her life broke me in the most beautifully painful of ways.  Yet it is through these cracks, that His light shines through me and so, for this new year 2015 I say:

Lord make me a light

a light that shines,

in the darkest places,

in the darkest times.

Lord make me a light

of warmth that shines,

into broken spirits,

in trying times.

Lord make me a light

a beacon of hope,

for those seeking peace,

and at the end of their rope.

Lord make me a light

like a city on a hill,

revealing your love,

revealing your will.

Lord make me a light

a light that shines,

in the darkest places,

in the darkest times.

Matthew 5:14-16 - You are the light of the world.  A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.  Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl.  Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.  In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.  

If you chose a theme verse for 2015, what would it be?

Ready or Not...Here I Come!

The transition to Fall this year has been unprecedented, strange, and long to say the least!  I'm the type of person that once August hits, I am already thinking about and even craving for the routine of the Fall.  So needless to say, I am happy that we are finally beginning the school year!

I am excited to be starting a new chapter in my professional career!  Well, I suppose it is more of an excitement mixed with the overwhelming understanding that I now have to get an entire classroom and year planned in just a few short days...really, in just hours!

Am I ready?  No.  Will I have to start anyways? Yes.

So what do we do when we are in a place in life where we are not ready,  or at least don't feel ready, to take on what we know God is calling us to?  I know for me, there were many times where I cried out to God during our pregnancy with Grace feeling much the same way.  So excited to love and meet her, yet so unsure of my capability to care for her as deeply as I so wanted to.  I remember so desperately wishing there was some kind of book I could read that would give me the step by step instructions, yet there was none.  The only book that helped me was the Bible.  I devoured those verses as though they were morsels of manna for my starved soul.  

Looking back now, I can see that God knew what I needed, when I needed it.  Yes, my obedience played a big role, yet it was only in His strength that I thrived.  And so, here I am again feeling vulnerable, nervous, excited, and wanting a play-by-play of how things are all going to work out.

Life change.  HUGE.  Six years ago, I never thought I would step back into a classroom as a teacher, let alone full time.  Yet, here I am.  The call for this job was so detailed that it really only could have been meant for me.  Quite literally, the HR departement said it would be close to impossible to find someone to fill such a unique position with so many requirements.  And just like that, God connected the dots.  He made very straight the broken path that was before me.  And so with some trepidation, I take this step and free fall into His plan, trusting just like He did in the past with Grace, that He will equip me to do His work, not mine.  I love the quote (thanks Trisha for sharing it with me so long ago) "God doesn't call the qualified, He qualifies the called."  I want my steps to be ordered of Him, for if they are, I know He will be faithful to complete the call in my heart.

Oh my sweet Grace, the lessons you have taught me are forever seared into my heart.  As overwhelmed as I am in this moment, it still is small in comparison to our beautiful journey with you.  You have changed me, and only for the good.  As I enter the classroom this year, my heart is already so sensitive to the hearts of these precious children God has placed in my room.  I am more full of grace, and mercy and able to see past the prickly exteriors and see through to the heart because of you.  I miss you so much.  Knowing that you would be heading into Grade 1 this year sometimes takes the breath right out of me.  This is not the way I had hoped, but was the way it was to be and I would do it all again to have known you and loved you.  I can't wait for heaven.

Grief is a crazy ride.  These life changes are like a twist that you weren't expecting.  It's like you are going along for the ride at a pleasant click, and then WHAMO!  You're upside-down and free-falling!  Going back to work this year as a teacher and not as a TOC (teacher-on-call) is an admittance that I have yet again, been beautifully mended.  God must believe that I am strong enough to take another step, so I continue to move forward and take the plunge in trust and faith!

So, ready or not...here I come!

Matthew 5:14-15
14 “You are the light of the world—like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden. 15 No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.

Obedience in a White Dress...

Easter is here, and once again my heart wells up with such thankfulness.  I have always been grateful for Easter, but something deeply changed in my heart after Grace passed away.  It stems back to a pivotal moment in my amazing journey of Grace.  I was at a department store looking for that 'perfect dress' for her upcoming Dedication/Birthday celebration.  It didn't take long to find a beautiful pink dress.  It was frilly, flowy, and perfect.  As I held it and rubbed my fingers along the delicate fabric, I thought, how would it feel on her?  Would she be comfortable in it?  I imagined just how beautiful she would look in it.  The soft pink color of the fabric would match her sweet and rosy complexion.

As I walked away, I noticed the same dress in white.  It was out of place on a different rack, most likely placed there by someone with a change of heart.  Perhaps a white dress for a baby would prove to be daunting as it would no doubt become blemished within minutes on a toddler.  I felt a familiar prompting in my spirit.  I kept walking.  I felt it again.  I turned around.  I slowly walked back and stared at it.  I stood face to face with the pureness of it.  The unblemished and perfectly white material drew me towards it.  I wanted to turn around and leave.  I did not want to hear what I was feeling God was saying to my heart.  I heard, and perhaps more accurately, felt the words, "you need to buy this for her."  I stood there knowing full well this dress was not to replace the party pink one.  No, the solemness deep in my heart knew what I needed to buy it for.  I stood there, at odds with myself for quite sometime.  How do you buy a dress that you know you will have to bury your child in?  How do you follow in obedeince to a call that you don't want to hear, and that you desperately don't want to accept?  Tears started streaming down my face, just the start of the tears that would fill up an entire ocean of grief.

I tried to walk away, rationalizing that we could still have more time with her.  I knew she was declining, but tried to justify that we could still go another year or more.  The dress might not fit, if she were to stay with us for another year.  Again, the prompting pounded gently, but heavily at the same time.  My heart raced.  I knew it was my Shepherd's voice.  So I reached out, and with shaking hands gently lifted it off the rack.  I raced to the counter, and without eye contact bought the dresses and ran to the van.  I got to the van and I wept.  Deep, heavy sobs.  I tried to compose myself a few times, but couldn't.  It was getting late and I needed to get home.  So I drove through the torrent of tears, but couldn't make it all the way home, so I decided to stop at my parent's home.  I sat in the driveway for awhile.  Crying out to God.  "But God, she is as white and pure as this beautiful dress.  How can you ask me to do such a thing?  I can't give her up.  I can't.  I fought so hard for her every day.  Please God.  Can't you understand what I am feeling?  She is so little, so innocent, she has done nothing wrong.  She has shown us love, truth and grace.  I want to trust you but please, please don't make me do this!"

As I continued to cry out, again I felt His will, His voice gently saying "But child, I do understand.  My son was blameless, my son was pure.  He did nothing to deserve the penalty awaiting Him.  He showed love, and embodied truth and grace.  Yet, I gave Him up for you, for the world...for Grace.  She will never have to experience true separation from me.  She will never be out of my hand because of what MY pure and innocent son accomplished. He experienced true death, and separation from Me, so that our sweet little Gracie would never have to.  I do understand, and promise to be your portion."

One month later, my sweet baby wore that dress.  She was as white as snow, fautless and blameless, like a little lamb.  She passed from this world into the next without a moment of separation.  She was lifted from my arms into the strong and loving arms of her Shepherd. You see, she too knew His voice, and awoke to the loving nail scarred hands, stretching out for her.  Like a little lamb, leaping into the Shepherd's embrace, she was lead home.  She never experienced true death.  Yes, she was separated from me, but thank you Jesus, she was never separated from her Creator.  Until we meet again sweet girl, Easter will always remind me of the cost of obedience, a beautiful white dress and the ultimate sacrifice of a Father's Son

Five Years? How Can it Be?

How can it be
Five years already
So much time
between now and then.
Yet in a moment it's
as though I am back
craddling you in that chair,
kissing your sweet spot
just under your chin.
Kissing your sweet
face for the last time.
Five years?
How can it be that so
much life has happened
since then?
I am Thankful.
Yet hesitant at times
to fully embrace this life
without you.
I know this is my
journey, my story
and my call in life
to move forward, to press on
towards the goal of heaven.
To love others along the way,
to remember the lessons taught,
so as to honor your memory,
your life.

Yet days like today
the balance is not easy
Days like today the vault
is flung open and the tears
I hold back can no longer
be ignored.  And like a rushing
water they break forth.
Crashing over me,
once again.  A reminder.
As the torrent of tears slow
and as they disperse and trickle
down my cheeks, the gentle
reminder is heard as in a whisper...
This is the day that they Lord
has made. Rejoice.  Be glad in it.
Don't waste time.  Enjoy the moment.

Rejoice?  In her death?
Be glad on this anniversary?
Oh the mystery of such love.
The 'manna' from heaven.
The hope of more.
The  sufficiency
of 'enough'
to get through
one.
more.
day.

I call out in anger.
I cry in despair.
I miss her.  I miss her.
So ardently.
Yet, through this pain
is borne such beauty.
Through the longing
comes deep thankfulness for
this is not the end.

No, this is not how
our story was to end.
But thank God this is
not how it will end.
For the hope of
heaven is the light
that sparks hope
each day in this
grieving mother's heart.

And so, I press on
I choose to trust.
I choose to learn
and be open to the journey.
It would be easier to stop
and remain in the pain.
To hide away and
retreat in the darkness.
It is courage, your courage
that moves me towards the light.
I will not give up
Just as you never gave up.
I will love you until
my last breath
And even in that moment
when I awake into eternity
I will be singing
praises of love
and thankfulness
to the One
who blessed me
with you.

Five years?
How can it be?
So much time
between now and then.
Today I remember
with tear stained cheeks.
Today I embrace
and lean into the pain
knowing full well
that there is a beauty
that only comes from the
pain of the cleansing rain
of your Mama's tears.
Five years and counting,
only by the GRACE
 of God.

Happy 5th year Heaven Due Date
My Angel Gracie Grace.

Flash Back...

I remember like it was yesterday.  The feeling of anticipation.  The longing to see you, hear you, hold you.  The build up to your arrival was one laden with prayer, fasting, and the coming together of many across the miles.  You, our sweet pea, were an unexpected blessing of unmerrited favor.  You.were.GRACE.

And so the story goes.  I didn't freeze like they said I would.  I wasn't able to be there in the moment you gasped for your first breath.  I wasn't even the first one to look upon your sweet cherub face, nor was I the first to touch your sweet, pink and rosy skin.  Missed moments I wish I had.  Yet, I remember coming out of the fog of anesthetic eager to know you...eager to know if there still was a 'you.'  In the haze of confusion I called out again and again, 'was she breathing? was she breathing?'  To which the patient nurse responded again and again. "Yes, she was breathing and she is beautiful."

Hours later I remember being wheeled in my bed, out of recovery into the NICU.  I can't even begin to describe the emotions that welled up within my heart wrenched, and beat up soul.  All the hours of prayer, all the moments in scripture, all the positive thoughts and well wishes of thousands around us led up to this moment.  Yet, when I saw your sweet little form lying under the warmth of the incubator, I didn't notice your head circumference.  Nor did I ask what your chances of survival were.  I saw you my sweet girl, and nothing else mattered. You were there, and you were mine. My imperfect, perfect valentine.

We are coming up to your sixth birthday this week.  We have all felt it coming.  Your sister and brother both broke open the vault of grief last night.  They miss you, and they long for the story to have been different.  They wrestle with the notion of how a good, and loving God chose not to heal their baby sister.  They cry in anger and in utter brokeness to think that such pain and sickness abound.  Yet, even in their pain and in the questioning, they know the hope of more.  For every valley of pain, there is this balance of hope and peace.  For every longing tear of sadness, there are thankful tears of joy.  They miss you so deeply, and it hurts so much to see them miss you, for we know the pain.  We so want to protect them from it, but if we did we would be robbing them of their story.  For it is in their pain of longing for you that reminds them that this is not the end.  And so...we let the tears flow.

Painful.  Heart-wrenching. Messy.  Sorrowful.  Grief.

In our brokeness we offer up a weak hallelujah.  In our pain, our lips tremble as we breathe out and mutter a word of deep gratitude and thanks. Yet, there in the pool of our tears, fully entrenched in the messiness, we feel closer to you and to heaven.   Once again, we are clothed in unmerrited favor.  We are clothed in His GRACE.

And so, as the day of love draws near and we celebrate what would be your sixth birthday, we choose to once again lean into the pain and remember the day we were blessed with our greatest valentine gift of all...GRACE.

There is Hope Beyond the Bend

Twists and turns in the road of life can be both a blessing and a curse.  In some ways not knowing what is ahead is helpful for it shields us and can prompt us to live in the moment.  Yet, in other ways, it can be agonizing not knowing what lies ahead.  These bends in the road remind me of the seasons of life.  As the fifth year anniversary awaits just around the corner, I'm feeling the confliction rise within me.  There is an unsettling in my spirit.  It's as though I need to be shaken and sifted through the grief sieve yet again.   Every new stage of grief begins with this unsettling of spirit.  I can remember these times of growth and the pain that accompanied them.  How can it be five years already?  It has been one bend at a time.  Oh those early days of grief were so engulfing.  Surviving each day, week, and month took every ounce of strength.  Standing at beginning of the path of life looking at the daunting road ahead without my baby was devastating.  Where did I think I would be in five years?  I couldn't even fathom it.  I couldn't see past that first bend, nor did I want to.   Yet, gingerly I took a step forward, and at times a step back, each moment propelling me towards the next bend.

And here I stand at this milestone, looking back on this crooked road.  What a journey of pain mixed with joy, brokenness intermingled with healing, and a heart once filled with discord has been beautifully woven into harmony.  As I look ahead, I can see the next bend.  This year will be the first year that I will work/teach on her 'dates.'  Every year I have simply guarded Valentine's Day and March 3rd by not working or taking on engagements on those days.  This year will be different as I am working both dates, and so begins the shifting yet again.  I am wrestling with the opposing emotions and caught in this delicate balancing act.  Part of me is so thankful for the healing that I've experienced and the strength that has been borne of the pain and hard work of grief.  Yet, parts of me resist the change as it means I have moved forward, and find myself around yet another bend.  I see others around me caught in battles that rob their lives of loved ones, and my heart breaks.  I know the pain of starting over and the overwhelming feeling of looking ahead at the next bend in the road with no strength left after running on empty for so long.  Yet, just as Christ held me when I was running on empty, I know He will hold them too.  No matter how dire and devastating your situation, He will be there to give you the strength to move one step further.  If you are in such a place today, I want to encourage you that this is not the end.  Hold on to that hope.  When all else fails, and you've come to the end of yourself, hold on to hope.  If you are feeling like you are at the end - take a listen to this song titled "This is Not the End" by Gungor.  It has inspired my heart and reminded me time and time again of the hope of heaven.

Gungor - This is Not the End

Every year I choose a verse to by my theme verse for the year.  This is my 2014 scripture - to find my hope in HIM all day long. Psalm 25: 4&5

Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths.
5 Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior,

 and my hope is in you all day long.

Blessings on each one of you dear friends and family.

Be Still.

  

In a world filled with propaganda and media streaming loud and strong 24 hours a day, is it any wonder that we have lost sight of stillness?  Yes, stillness.  Pause for a moment.  Take a long breath in and wait.  Now let it out slowly.  These moments of quiet, albeit few and far between, may actually be the antidote to our crazed days.  We are a busy people.  Add in a spouse, and a few children locked into their busy schedules, and suddenly you find yourself in a busy whirlwind.  Throw in the hoopla of the holidays, and it is a wonder that we call it, the most wonderful time of the year.


I see it in my own life.  My proverbial 'full plate' is piling higher and higher.  It is so easy to get swept up into the winds of motion.  I want to be present in the now.  I don't want another day to go by without knowing that I actually took notice of this life I am living.  As Christmas approaches how I long to be present in it.  To be mindful of Christ and His humble beginnings.  Still...oh to be still.

Yet there is dinner to be made, work to be done, laundry to do and kids to tuck in.  Time is a thief and waits for no one, and so we race against it.  We buy into the lie that being busy and in motion somehow gets us farther in life.  We are afraid that if we sit back and wait too long, we will miss out.  In the craziness of the season, my prayer is to be still, and to take moments of stillness to reflect, even amidst the chaos, actually despite it.

Gracie loved Christmas.  A dear friend took this beautiful picture of her.  Our two little ones at the time were running, laughing and dancing around her pram and creating a beautiful chaos that only preschoolers can make!  Yet, there she was.  My sweet pea.  She was taking it all in.  She loved the lights of the tree, and she loved the squeals of her siblings.  I remember this moment, clearly.  I watched her, unmoved by the loud play around her, enjoying the soft glow of the lights of the tree, cooing softly.  A cherished memory now held near to my heart.  I am thankful for these moments that I 'come up for breath.'  When we are caught in the busyness of life, it is easy to be vacant and unacknowledging of these simple moments around us.  Oh to take notice more often and awaken to these moments in which we are fully present, where our soul is fully alive and aware.  It is in these moments when we are alive enough to wake up from the daze of life and take notice.  And it is these moments that then become our beloved memories.  

Today, this hour, this minute, this moment...I encourage you to be still and take notice of the moment.  Make time this season to be still.  Don't let time steal away.  More than any other moment, reflect on the one that changed this life forever. The moment when Christ became flesh and entered this incredible love story of restoration with His people; the moment in which our soul felt its worth.  Fall on your knees this season, before the wood of His cradle, before the wood of the cross and remember.

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining;

It is the night of the dear Savior's birth!

Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!

O night divine, O night when Christ was born!

O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Re-Post - The Halloween Dilemma

So for many of you out there, I know you struggle with this day called Halloween. As a faith filled mother with young children I too am at odds with this day. In some ways, the pumpkins and the G-rated friendly black cats and cute little kids in costume make Halloween a fun family oriented day. Yet on the other end of the spectrum are the ghoulish looking houses that are dec'd to the brim with skeletons escaping from the ground to bloodied vampires hanging from the roof.

So...as a Christian family - what do you do?

Do we point a crooked finger in disgust at these devilish decorations, turn our lights off and ignore it all together? Or do we embrace the fun of the day and smile at the sweet little children coming door to door? Do we ignore the evil and try to solely focus on the good? These questions have been swirling around my mind as I try to gain perspective on this day.

For what it's worth, here's my take.

Even though this day is often used as a day to celebrate FEAR and death, we take this day (and really every day) and try our best to redeem it for Christ. We celebrate His victory over death and celebrate the HOPE of eternal life. We carve pumpkins and explain to the children that we are like a pumpkin in the sense that we are but a shell. Inside of us, we all have 'guck' and when we invite Jesus into our lives He comes and cleans us from the inside out. He then lights our heart on fire and the Holy Spirit shines through us, just as the candle shines through the pumpkin. So when we are out at night and see the glow of jack-o-lanterns, we can relate back to Christ shining in and through us. We have some years handed out candy, blessing the children of our neighborhood with God's love through a smile, encouraging word and lollipops. We have also attended Harvest Parties at local churches for some good ol' family fun and bonding. Good can be found and had on this day, contrary to popular opinion.

As for the scary graveyard and demonic looking inspired homes, we say to the children that even though these homes celebrate death, we as a family celebrate life. We have worked hard to make Gracie's grave a place of peace. Our children would have never thought of a graveyard as a scary place until seeing the front yard of a house decorated as a haunted grave-yard. We celebrate that Grace is now with Jesus, alive and healed! The grave is not a haunted place, it is just a special place on earth where we can go and remember our Gracie. Our kids run and play and giggle at Gracie's grave! They will at times shed a tear of remembrance, but mainly they just love running through the beautifully manicured lawns and throw pennies in the pretty fountain. We don't celebrate Gracie's death at her grave, no! We celebrate her life here on earth and her true life in heaven! As a family we are bent on celebrating hope and life, yes even on this day of fear and death for Christ is bigger!!! Christ has risen, He is stronger than fear, ghoulish ghosts, and death. After-all, He leaves no room for fear for He has defeated it all! So as Christians we do not need to fear Halloween or even fear itself for we hold the Hand of the One who holds the keys to life and death!

You are stronger, You are stronger
Sin is broken, You have saved me
It is written, Christ is risen
Jesus You are Lord of all
Hillsongs - Stronger

Hope in the Storm

Oh the weather has been incredible lately.  Thunder showers followed by breath-taking rainbows...and even double rainbows (what does it mean LOL)?  These beautiful rainbows in the sky always remind me of hope.  Such gorgeous colours spring forth only after the dark thunderous clouds and rain finally relent to the glorious light of the sun.  I have been chatting with a few of my dear friends who have found themselves in such dark, stormy places they never thought they would be in.  Each circumstance differs greatly from the next, yet a common thread of sorrow, pain and grief unilaterally abounds.  When we find ourselves in the thick of such pain, entrenched in thorns and suffocating in vines of sorrow, we long for reprieve.  When watching a loved one in such a place of suffering we long to help.  Yet, too often a well-meaning individual will try to stick on a platitude to somehow bind up the unwrappable feelings of grief and loss.  A friend of mine shared an intersting article with me today on 'Vulnerablity and Christianese' (http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/christianese-vulnerability ) and how these petty little blanket statements such as "God will not give you more than you can handle" infuriate an already stressed out soul.  Although most of these trite comments do come from a place of good intention, what a wounded soul needs is simply the raw, honest truth with a snippet of hope.  I know it sounds crazy, but too much 'happy' talk ie. "all things will work together for good" can, at times, diminish one's current pain.  For example, I know that Gracie is 'in a better place,' but sometimes that just makes me feel guilty for wishing that place was here.  When someone is given the ground-shattering news such as ' the cancer has returned' or that there is 'nothing more than can be done', we must be quick to hold our tongues and extend a loving hand.  There is an unbelievable urge for us to 'fix' things, but there are some things that just can't be fixed.  There are times in this life that just don't make sense and sometimes...life is just simply unfair.

During our season of Grace, many friends were there for us, some respectfully gave us space, and others were bold enough to ask what they could do or say to help.  As life continues to trickle on as quickly as the proverbial sand through the hour glass, friends continue to ask me, "what do I say to someone whose world has just crumbled beneath them?"  If you are in this place today, whether you are the one in the valley or whether your heart is breaking for a loved one who is, here is a quote that I have found helpful and that I love.  I hope it helps shine a light in the midst of the valley, if not for you, then for someone near you who is in the fight of his/her life.

WANTED: A GRIEF HELPER

Father Joe Mahoney

A strong, deep person, wise enough to allow me to grieve in the depth of who I am, and strong enough to hear my pain without turning away.

Not too close, because then you couldn't help me to see. Not too objective, because then you might not care. Not too aloof, because then you couldn't hug me. Not too caring, because then I'd be tempted to let you live my life for me.

I need someone who believes that the sun will rise again, but who does not fear my darkness, or my walk through the night;

Someone who can point out the rocks in my way without making me a child by carrying me;

Someone who can stand in thunder and watch the lightning, and believe in a rainbow.

She Would Be Starting Kindergarten Tomorrow....

She would be starting Kindergarten tomorrow.  Her hair would have been washed and braided just like her older sister's hair tonight.  Her little uniform would have been laid out at the bottom of her bed just like her older brother's is tonight.  Her backback would have been packed with shiny new inside shoes.  Her lunch kit would have a little yellow note reminding her that she is loved and  like her sibling's notes it would be decorated with bright red heart stickers.

Tonight, the pendulum swings and I am filled with that familiar beautiful pain.  Once again, I take the step of accepting a new chapter, and a new milestone.  Tonight I remember.  Just as Samuel set a monumental stone ( ’Eben hà-ezer)  to remember how the Lord had led the Isrealites to victory, I too, figuratively set a monutmental stone tonight.  I raise this 'stone' to remember how the Lord has in His strength and only by His grace brought me thus far.  There were days I did not think I would make it through the pain of one day, let alone four years without her.  A victory?  For me...yes.  It may sound ludicrous to think that simply living is a victory.  Yet for me, looking back on the last four years, I see it as nothing short of a miracle.  I have, by His grace, learned not only to survive, but to live again.  Days like tomorrow can often feel like I am taking a few steps back.  Yet by mentally marking it with a 'stone of rememberance,' I am choosing to remember just how far I have come.

Here I raise my Ebenezer
Here by Thy great help I've come
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure
Safely to arrive at home.
(excerpt from Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing)

And so my sweet pea, I choose to remember special days like tomorrow, marking it with gratitude as I reflect on just how far we as a family have come.  We are another day closer to joining you safely 'at home' on those celestial shores.  What a day, glorious day that will be!

The Best is Yet to Come!

I don't know about you but boy am I digging my heels in summer this year.  I know the incredible weather and the lazy days are coming to an end and I am not quite ready to embrace the pumpkins and falling leaves of Fall just yet.  It's like I can't quite get enough of a good thing. Summer has become comfortable.  Fall means change, and change means letting go.  Yet parts of me shudder at my own pettiness as I complain of the 'busyness' ahead and the questions of when the pumpkin spice latte will be released to mark the season change!  Talk about first world problems!  What I need more than the acceptance of a seasonal change is the acceptance of a perspective change.

Why does my heart continually tether to such ideas of entitlement so easily?   It is a constant battle to re-focus my lens on the joys of my reality.  Today I am alive.  Today I have a husband who adores me.  Today I will tuck my beautiful children into bed.  Today my family is provided for.  Today I live in freedom.  Today I remember my sweet angel awaiting me.  Today is nothing short of a miracle, filled with blessing upon blessing.  Today I am blessed so that I may be a blessing to OTHERS! Yet here I stand pouting about the summer ending.  It's like I know what I need to do, but still don't do it.  Sigh.  I am like the author Paul in Romans when he says (Rom. 7:21-23MSG) "It happens so regularly that it’s predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God’s commands, but it’s pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge."

Thankfully, there is hope.  I am not left powerless to my own ego-centric ways.  I can reverse such a rebellious heart.  We see in verse 25 that it is only through Christ and His strength that I can (if I so choose to) refocus my lens, and re-adjust my heart back to His.  I can cut the strings of entitlement and despondency and embrace the beauty of today.   If you too are feeling the waves of apathy with the upcoming change in season, I encourage you to shift not only your seasonal wardrobe but your perspective as well!  Ultimately, I am reminded that life here on earth is just a blip on the timeline of eternity. We are made for more than this. We only have so much time to do what God has called us to, so we must make our lives count for more than just our own selves.  One day I will no longer struggle with the balance of living fully here on earth with a part of my heart already in heaven. One day I will be in wholeness, and all will finally be made right.  The enemy may trick you into thinking that the best has come and gone, yet we know the best is yet to come! So come Lord Jesus Come!

Never Once

Have you ever heard a song or read a poem that pricks you to your inner most core?  You know, the part of you that you don't often allow room for because when you do it overwhelms and overflows?  For me, as many of you already well know, it's the deep chasm of grief in my heart.  Thankfully, I experience this pain far less than I did in the early stages of grief, yet once in awhile something will trigger memories and the portal of pain re-opens.  I know it sounds like a negative thing, but truly it isn't.  I have learned to live in the balance of this pain through the grace of God - day by day.  Yet, there are times, and I suppose there always will be, when the floodgates open and I remember.


On a Sunday morning a few months back, I heard for the first time a powerful song by Matt Redman entitled Never Once.  As the words swept over me and I stood silently praying, memories began to swirl and it was as though moments were flashing in my mind's eye of pivotal memories of when I felt I was walking alone.  Although I knew Jesus was with me in those moments, for it was only by His strength that I survived that road, I often wouldn't 'feel' Him near.  I often felt alone.  I felt alone in the hallway with the Drs. when they told me there was nothing more they could do for Grace and that I would have to call my family (including Andrew) to come and say their good-byes.  I felt alone when I couldn't stop the seizures from happening and the Doctors had given up on our precious babe.  I felt alone, helpless and abandoned so many times throughout the journey of Grace.

More than any other moment, the time when I felt as though Jesus was no where to be found was when they (the funeral directors) took my precious baby from me in that black car.  I don't think I had ever felt such dark despair in my life.  The pain in that moment was often too hard to think about.  Whenever that thought came to me I would push it far down back into the deep chasm of my heart for I simply couldn't bear it.  In the days after Grace died, there were things to be done and so life in that place of grief becomes a cloud of adrenalin, exhaustion and mere survival.   By the grace of God we do things like plan funerals and write obituaries.  By the time we had her service, I felt the peace of God once again - and I know it was your prayers for me.  SO many of you my precious family & friends were praying for me and I am forever grateful.  Even though the funeral & graveside were painful (there were many beautiful confirmations that day) when we buried that precious little white feathery casket, I felt hope.  There was a peace in knowing that although she was no longer in that human vessel that once had contained the most beautiful, sweet spirit,  her spirit was finally free and whole with Jesus. So as hard as those days were, it still did not light a candle to the pain of the day they took her from me.  I have never in the last 4 years allowed myself to think of that moment when she was taken from me, that moment in which I felt truly alone.

So as this song flooded over my soul would that Sunday, this memory came to mind.  I could see it in my mind, and I share it here as my most vulnerable moment yet, here is what happened that painfully dark day....

As Grace was transferred out of Canuck Place that cold and grey morning, I remember feeling as if the ground had literally fallen beneath me.  You see, I knew Grace.  I knew her for I was with her nearly every moment of her little life.  I did not trust people with her, for her needs were so intense.  So to allow her tiny little body to drive out of my sight was more than I could humanly bear.  I felt the blood drain from my face as I collapsed into Andrew.  I felt as if I had fallen so deep and so fast into such unspeakable darkness that I couldn't breath.  I felt like I was drowning in the pain, every breath felt like a gasp for air, every second was in excruciating slow motion.  I felt so alone, and so betrayed by the One who was supposed to save the day. I had never felt so far away from God as I did in that moment, and never had I experienced such painful darkness, complete failure and utter abandonment.

Yet as the words of this song were being sung over me, I allowed myself to remember and as the image of the black car came to mind I began to see the picture differently.  The pain was still very real, but this time I saw Jesus.  He was there.  He was weeping with me and crouched down beside me, cradling His arms around me.  His every breath in sync with mine.  His every tear mixed in with mine, and although I couldn't see Him past all the pain He.saw.me.   Not only did He see me, He entered my pain.  Although I didn't feel His strength, He held me up.  When I felt as though the ground had collapsed beneath my feet, He was my firm foundation.  Even there in my darkest hour, even when I believed the taunts of despair by the enemy of being abandoned and betrayed, never once did I ever walk alone.  He was there.

If you are going through a valley today or if you are in a place where you are questioning if God is really there or if He even cares, I want to encourage you that you never walk alone.  As you read through the lyrics of this song, or listen to it - I pray that God will show you as you quiet before Him, the unseen love He has for you.  As you bravely open the door to your pain, I pray that He would in His great love and compassion illuminate the truth in the darkness.  As I learned through our amazing journey of Grace, God doesn't always answer in the ways we hope and long for, but He does promise to never leave us.  My prayer for you is that you know deep within your heart and soul, that even at your darkest, most painful moments...you never walk alone.

Never Once - by Matt Redman

Standing on this mountaintop
Looking just how far we’ve come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us

Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much You’ve done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us

Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say

Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, we never walk alone

Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Every step we are breathing in Your grace
Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful

It Is Finished.

Today, memories flood my heart, stir my soul, overwhelm my thoughts, and cause my physical body to be still and remember.  I remember when such grief overtaking days, were the 'norm'.  I remember when it took me twice as long to do anything, and simple chores seemed like monumental tasks.  I remember the insatiable urge to sleep, to stay in bed and pretend as though Grace was still in her crib.  I remember the sweet voices of my little ones urging me to get up and play.  Thank God for them, for it was because of their need for me to still be a mother that I prayed for God to stir from deep within me the strength to get up.

Hard days such as today are few and far between, a testament to God's mercies and healing in my life.  It doesn't mean I don't think of her daily, it just means the balance has become somewhat manageable.  I have learned the 'unforced rhythms' of remembering and loving Grace while still being present in the current moment.  There are days, like today and tomorrow where the balance is thrown off because of the mere depth of pain surrounding the day, hour, minute...second.

I remember the wise words of my grief counsellor, reminding me that I do not have to re-live the trauma of the final hours.  I can remember GRACE, I can remember her journey home, but I needn't relive it because it is already done.  Her journey home is finished.  And although my heart and mind is constantly trying to re-live what was happening four years ago, my spirit is choosing to listen to the whisper of hope.  IT IS FINISHED.

There is no other day, time, moment, second,  that I will ever be more thankful for the resurrected power of Jesus Christ than March 3, 2009.  The day that my sweet Grace passed from my arms into the arms of the One who holds the key to LIFE.  Gracie's Heaven Due Date -is  the date I will forever be most thankful for. The day that made real the sacrifice of my Saviour all those years ago on a wooden cross when He took on my sin and exclaimed those words "It is finished" so that thousands of years later when my heart was broken and my most precious treasure was poured out, I too could look to the heavens and say through tears of immense pain mixed with sincere thankfulness...."that it is finished and today my sweet Grace is with You in paradise."

Broken and spilled out 
Just for love of you Jesus 
My most precious treasure 
Lavished on Thee 
Broken and spilled out 
And poured at Your feet 
In sweet abandon 
Let me be spilled out 
And used up for Thee 
-Steve Green

Living on Borrowed Time

It may be the dreary skies, it may be the after holiday blues, and it may even be that we are again entering the winter season of grief but I am feeling emotionally strung out.  I feel raw, exposed and vulnerable this rainy Monday morning.  As the familiar dates begin to re-appear, I am feeling the weight of loss and although I am getting much better at the balance between the sadness of yesterday and the joy of today (thank you God), there are certain days that will always prick me to my heart's core.

January 25th for instance is one.  Four years ago on the 25th of January we dedicated our sweet baby to Jesus along with an early birthday party bash at the church.  The church was packed with amazing family and friends - many of which traveled to be there for this celebration.  4 years ago we were celebrating Grace's 1 year birthday and this year we will be remembering her 5th.  Insert long *sigh* here.   The 25th of January, 2009 was such a bittersweet day.  We were told earlier that week that she was in fact regressing, and we were given the words 'palliative care' and 'keep her comfortable' but we hadn't bought in just yet.  There is a strange dichotomy that comes to those in such peril; to those stuck in that proverbial rock and hard place.  You long and hope for the best outcome, while all the while a nagging feeling of the opposite keeps rising within.  It was in this balance that we found ourselves that beautifully painful day in January.

We dedicated and released our littlest lamb to Jesus trusting that He would make all things beautiful in His time. Ecclesiastes 3:11  This dedication was not like the ones we had experienced before when we brought our healthy children to the Lord and asked for guidance to rear them and love them.  No, this dedication was a turning point for us.  We released our baby girl to the Shepherd and His will for her.  Did we still hope she would make a full recovery?   Most assuredly, yet in the moment captured in the picture below, a painful shift occurred in our hearts.  Gracie was indeed living on borrowed time.

My heart's memory flashed back to that hospital hallway where I pleaded with God for more time with my baby.  I realized in that lonely hallway that Grace was on the edge of her life and that all I wanted was for more time with her.  So I pleaded like never before and although God did not answer my prayer for complete healing for here on earth, He did grant me the gift of time.

Every so often my spirit is still nudged and reminded that we all are living on borrowed time.  Every breath we take is given to us it is not ours to determine the days, hours or seconds.  When one is in crisis this thought of 'living each day like it's your last' is suddenly slammed into your face like a cruel, unexpected wind that takes your breath away.  Yet when the winds of crisis settle, we fall back into this deceptive thought that life is ours and runs on our time and in our control.  The reality is that we are all living on borrowed time.  I am reminded this rainy Monday to love Christ and others with all that I have so that when crisis comes, I will have no regrets about loving this life I have been given.  I am challenged today as I think and pray for the beautiful brave souls going through all sorts of differing crises today.  I am challenged to love my family and community around me so that they know who I belong to, not only in times of crisis, but in the beautifully mundane moments of the everyday as well.