The Power of the Middle.

Life has been full and oh so busy!  It saddens me to think I don't have time for blogging as much anymore.  Truth be told, I am so tired of writing for my Master's Degree that it leaves little desire for personal writing.  However, on the eve of my 40th year I can't help but feel pressed to document this moment.

There is a trepidation as I close my eyes tonight, knowing that tomorrow I will no longer be in my early years.  It feels like yesterday I was in youth group, setting up music song lists with Rachel Richmond and waiting for Andrew to arrive from college!  Or driving with Suzette, Jen, Louise and Sarah up to WPBC to visit Andrew or  rocking out in that little green Honda to countless retreats.  How does time fly by this quickly?  How is it that I will soon be the parent to a teenager next month?  It's mind boggling.

Yet, mixed in this moment is a beautiful feeling of gratitude and humble joy.  My life is so blessed.  I have known love since I was 16 and feel so grateful to be loved by Andrew for nearly a quarter of a century.  I have beautiful and loving children and a wonderful family.  I have many dear friends and although I don't see some of them everyday, they remain close to my heart.  I love my job and feel called to teaching.  I AM BLESSED.

I have heard it said that 40 is the young of the old and old of the young.  I am in the middle, and it is a familiar place for me as I am the middle child.  I know the role of the middle child is often seen as a negative, but I loved it!  I loved having both an older and younger sister, plus I had 3x the wardrobe!  In my graduate readings, one thought that impacted my studies has been the notion of rhizomatic learning (Deleuze & Guattari, 2007).  This type of learning generates from the middle, and allows for offshoots of learning to emerge from the middle.  This middle time of life offers me maturity, experience, and gratitude.  No longer am I striving to figure out who I am.  I know who I am and understand that I am a work in progress and have found peace in that.

Is aging easy?  No, can't say I love the forming wrinkles and lack of energy.  Yet, with age comes experience and the realization that life is messy, and hard.  Long gone are my pie in the sky notions seen through rose coloured glasses.  Life has dealt me much pain and sadness, and no doubt will continue to.  Yet, this awakening to be present and thankful for the here and now has only come through the painful and beautifully messy and twisted path of life.

As I fall asleep tonight, I won't be sad for the years gone by but will be thankful for the formation they have played into my ever evolving self.  I have so much to be thankful to God for, not only the mountain top parts of the journey, but also the deep darkness of the valleys and all that has been in-between!

I leave you with a quote from Austrian neurologist and Holocost Survivor, Viktor Frankl.  May I choose to use this sacred middle
space to find room for growth and embrace Christ's freedom in my life.  And I thank each and everyone of you for joining me in this journey of life.  Here's to the power of being in the middle!

Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom. 

The Sweet Spot of Your Soul.

The entry of this New Year was one for the books!  Celebrating with my sweet little family by having a movie marathon, mixed in with board games, then topped off with a magical wintery sledding adventure at midnight was perfection!  Sigh.  It was amazing.  This morning, Pastor Jim posed a question that resonated deep within me.  He asked, "Is your soul increasing or decreasing?"  As I look to this new year, this blank canvas, this fresh blanket of snow, I can't help but wonder?  Will my soul increase this year, or will it decrease?

Ultimately, I think we would all say we would hope for our souls to increase.  Yet, to grow, we must not only experience the beautiful, and magical moments.  Oh how I wish I had a pause button for moments like last night where I wished the world would just lull in the beauty of the moment.  However, often times our greatest increase comes from a challenge.  Now I think the word challenge often gets a bad rap!  In my studies this year, we learned about Vygotsky and his Zone of Proximal Development.  In order to grow in our learning, we must be challenged but in a way where it is scaffolded, and acheivable.  If learning is too easy, it doesn't motivate higher level thinking, but the opposite is also true.  If the learning proves too difficult, we tune out!  So, there is this 'sweet spot' where the learning is just hard enough to illicit those higher level problem solving skills, but we must also have the right supports in place in order to aid us in discovering the new unchartered areas of learning.  

I think this same principle can be applied here.  In order for our soul to expand, and for us as humans to grow spiritually, we must endure life's challenges.  Challenge yourself to find ways to support your spirit's growth.  Perhaps, start with redeeming a certain time that you already have.  For instance, on the way to work I recite the Fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22-23). For the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.  Then when I pass a certain stop-light I start praying that I would be filled with God's peace and joy for myself and for the classroom.  That I would be at peace and be calm and full of joy to a world that is vibrating with stress and depression.  I speak peace over my classroom and joy into the space.  It has made a huge difference in my stress levels this year.  I feel as though my soul is increasing because of the scaffolded time of meditating on scripture.  

I hope you find your 'sweet spot' of learning and that when challenges come this year, that you will be ready to take it on knowing that with the proper supports, and reliance on Christ, you will come through it stronger, wiser and increased!  After-all, you can do all things through Christ who gives you strength!  (Phil. 4:13)

Westwinds Ladies Brunch Fundraiser for Canuck Place

I was honoured to be ask to share our story of Grace to a wonderful room full of beautiful women!  I was blessed by the generosity to raise money for Canuck Place, an organization that is so near and dear to our hearts!  

I am someone who likes order and I find comfort in rules and boundaries.  I am organized and orderly and tend to be what one would consider a Type A personality.  I am a planner.  I love lists, and so my plans for my life were greatly thwarted the day I found out we were unexpectedly expecting.  I was already feeling overwhelmed at the surprise of having 3 babies three years and under, but then the devastating news of our little surprise baby’s health left me so shocked and deeply confused.  She was diagnosed at 18 weeks gestation with severe hydrocephalus which is water on the brain….the diagnosis ranged from imminent death to moderate learning disabilities!  We were told that 90% of people who receive such a diagnosis, will terminate.  I remember fighting through the tears and shaking my head in disbelief, so desperately longing to wake up from every mother’s worst nightmare.

Our journey was filled with great highs; like capturing her first smile on camera and watching her track with her eyes, and bringing her hand to her mouth and play with her little toys.  But it was also filled with deep lows, lonely moments in hospital hallways, frightening seizure episodes and 911 calls, and finally the hardest and most deeply painful moment of my life, burying my baby.

I started the journey with such faith that she would be completely healed.  After-all, Andrew and I were in ministry and we knew that God had the power to heal, and so we set off in such faith that if we did all we could, then surely God would do the rest. 

Well, as it happened, healing on this side of heaven was NOT God’s plan.  I remember feeling so confused and so hurt.  How could her healing on this side of heaven not be His plan?  I checked my heart for bitterness, sin, unresolved unforgiveness, I searched my heart and prayed continually and fasted, & held prayer meetings.  I gave up all technology and every free moment I had I would read my bible with such a thirst like it was water for my parched soul – yet still, His answer was not the one we were hoping and praying for. 

I’ll never forget reading in Hebrews 11 where the author writes about the heroes of our faith!  Hebrews 11:13 ³ All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. 

He then lists all of the atrocities that came to these heroes of our faith.  They were stoned, mocked, they were imprisoned, mistreated, afflicted, and the list goes on!  I was in shock!  I couldn’t believe that these heroes of the faith, were commended for their faith but were not given what was promised them…for God had something better.

39 ³⁹ These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised, ⁴⁰ since God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect.

Whooo….that’s a tough pill to swallow.  It was so hard to come to the reality that His plan for Grace was not my plan.  It was a tug of war for a few months I can assure you. 

An example of this tug of war with God was one day I was at a department store looking for that 'perfect dress' for Grace’s upcoming Dedication 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 obedience to a call that you don't want to hear, and that you desperately don't want to accept?  

There was another woman, who too, was given a task too heavy to bear.  A woman who had plans set out for her life, until God came to her and changed it all.  Sweet young Mary, engaged to be married, no doubt had plans set.  And this change of plan, this Higher calling, came with great risk.  For not being married and pregnant could have resulted in her stoning.  I can only imagine how frightened she must have been and can only imagine all of the questions she must have had. 

To think that such a young girl would be called to such a huge and overwhelming task is unfathomable to me. Yet, I love how God's ways are so often opposite to what our ways would be. To think that God would choose a girl - not a queen, nor a king, not someone of high ranking or wealth, but a simple young girl from the long family line of a mere shepherd boy turned warrior king. Mary, from the house of David, was called to put all reason aside and just trust in sheer obedience. 

Mary had a lot of reasons to disobey, and flat out refuse the call on her life. She had to endure the initial shock of the angel, then had to try to wrap her head around the mysterious and frightening idea that she would be with child which I am sure led to the panic of what others would say about her, her family, and her betrothed. I am sure she feared her for her life. How do you explain to the one you are giving your life to such inexplicable news? I can't even begin to imagine the look of pain and betrayal in the eyes of Joseph (who we know loved her enough to want to divorce her in quiet - before he knew the truth from the angel himself). Ugh - talk about a stressful situation!

Yet here we see Mary in the middle of an unfathomable encounter choosing to obey. After asking the obvious question of "how can this be...since I am a virgin?" she receives another ambiguous piece to the mysterious puzzle. Even after this strangely wonderful, yet frightening encounter we hear her beautiful trusting faith simply respond with

Luke 1:38 ³⁸ “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.”

Obedience…a beautiful, surrender of her will. 

During my pregnancy with Grace I had many people praying.  One prayer warrior in our church at the time, told me that she felt like I was like Mary – favored of God.  Favored?   I remember thinking, I don’t feel favoured, I feel scared, unsure, confused, worried…definitely not favored. 

Our journey with Grace was full of the unknown. Trusting the Hand of an unseen God is not easy. Yet I knew His voice, for He had guided me all my life through ups and downs, highs and lows. He was my Shepherd, and although I did not know the path and although it often was a path I did not want to tread, I still trusted His rod and His staff.

Obedience for me didn't always come easy - and perhaps it was a struggle for Mary too? There were times I fought, and fought hard against what I knew was His will for Grace. He, in His love for me, allowed me the fight - but, as Andrew told me - God is big enough to handle our anger, questions and disappointments.

When Lois told me I was favoured.  I smiled and thanked her and secretly scoffed in my heart.  Favored?  Favored to what?  Favoured to be hurt?  Favoured to watch her baby suffer?  If this was favour, I surely didn’t want it!

The greek for the word highly favoured, word kecharitomene.  Which means completely, perfectly, enduringly endowed with grace." (Blass and DeBrunner, Greek Grammar of the New Testament).

When I read that, tears welled up in my eyes, because the night before the confirmation of our baby’s diagnosis, well before this strong and loving woman shared with me that I was favoured, we cried out to God in prayer, fasting, and singing.  My husband and I sat crying on the floor, singing Amazing Grace and I turned to him and said, if it’s a girl, can we call her Grace?

We loved the name Grace, because it meant unmerited favour.   I knew she was my unexpected blessing, and we were completely, perfectly enduringly endowed with GRACE!  She was my delight.  She was a gift to me, to us.  I can clearly see that I was favoured in the sense that Christ made me perfectly, and completely able to endure the beautiful and immense gift that was Grace.

He gave me the grace to buy that white dress that day.  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, but 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.  

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 Shepherd. 

Our sweet journey of Grace came to completion March 3, 2009.  Grace Kathryn Elizabeth Evans passed away at Canuck Place Children’s hospice on Mar 3, 2009 at the tender age of 12 and half months.  She passed away a year exactly to her original due date. We affectionately call it her heaven due date, as that was the day she entered into fullness.  I am so very thankful to CP and how they rallied around us and helped us in our most painful moments.  They were there to support us as a family and after the chaos of the hospital and separation of our family, Canuck was a safe place to land.  It was a haven, where we could all go through the experience of loss and grief together, as one, under one roof.  Words will never fully be able to express our love and appreciation for Canuck Place.  Thank you Jenna and family for all that you have done to raise awareness and money to support this beautiful organization. 

The journey of Grace was one of deep love, and deep grief.  God molded me into a new creation, and the pain of the break hurts, and it still hurts ardently.  But I can honestly say that there is a beauty that came from the break, a beauty in me that was only brought forth because of the loss of my sweet baby and that all she taught me, and my family.

So as you enter this Christmas season, I am mindful that there are some of you who are in the midst of an inexplicable, painful place. Although it has been a few years without Grace, the painful reminders of life without her remain. Perhaps there are some of you in this fervent place of grief this year. There may also be some of you living in the unknown of whether this Christmas will be the last one with a loved one. While some may be picking up the pieces of broken dreams and relationships. Will you like Mary, in the midst of chaos and profound confusion, choose to obey even if it doesn't make sense? Will you accept the call on your life and trust that He can make beauty from ashes as He did with mine?

No matter where you are in the scheme of life this year- whether you are singing all the jolly Christmas songs with gusto because life is beautifully wonderful, or if you find yourself crying out and longing to just feel at peace again, I encourage you to come to the rough wooden cradle of Jesus, just the same, and worship Him.

For in Him true peace, joy and fulfillment can be found. In Him, the eternal hope of true healing and wholeness is available to all who call on His name.

Obedience is not always the natural choice. It is often uncomfortable and even painful. Obedience for me is constantly and willingly releasing the pain and moving forward even though at times, I so desperately want to hold on to the pain. It is trusting even when I don't have the blueprint of life ahead of me.

This Christmas may our response be as Mary's, in obedience may we have the strength and courage to say “I am the Lord’s servant, may your word to me be fulfilled.”

The Heart Won't Let Me Forget

The heart won't let me forget, no matter how hard I may try.
I tell myself I am fine, it's just a pretty white lie.
And so I go on, piling on my plate more and more
Pushing down the memories, the pain, just as I had done before.

Afterall there is work to be done, reports to write
Assignments and reading must be done just right
Games, lessons, and homework with my precious ones
Cheering on my hubby as a Doctor he did become.

I thought I had a good handle.  I thought I was fine.
Yet my heart won over the messages I had in my mind.
I am coping, I am handling it.  Life is good and swell.
Yet my heart, was not conviced.  No, it had something to tell.

Stop.  Stop the busy.  Stop and remember me.
Let the pain, and let the siphoned tears finally run free.
7 years, my mind says, it shouldn't still hurt so.
Ah, but the heart, oh the heart.  The heart still knows.

The heart of me, the center of who I am
Is forever changed by the life of my sweet little lamb.
I have come far, by the Grace of God it's true.
But my shape is changed, forever it will take shapes anew.

Grief is fluid and it flows and changes like a river to the sea
Sometimes rising deep and strong, other time still as glass you see.
Although my  mind does try to predict the size and intestity of the wave
The heart knows better and does not allow me to hide away in an oblivious cave.

For how can a mother's heart ever truly forget?
The last hug, the last kiss, the last moment so intimate?
No, the heart won't let me forget, and so I am thankful for the beautiful pain.
So wash over my heart, mind and soul tonight Grief, come like a cleansing rain.

I look at the photos and videos, allowing the burdened filled tears to stain my cheeks.
I hug your siblings and hold them tight and stare at their faces as they sleep.
Oh sweet angel girl, my heart beats heavy and strong
To kiss that 'sweet spot' just one more time and sing over you in song.

And so I welcome grief tonight.  Oh dear heart you have center stage.
I am listening now, I have made the time.  No longer must you wage
war with my mind for I have calmed my thoughts and mind.
Thank you heart for reminding me to take this precious time.

My darling Grace I miss you.  It still hurts so ardently.
Yet I rejoice to think of you in heaven dancing so heartily.
So dance, dance, dance my little one.  Dance, dance for the Son.
Run, jump and play my little one, and I will sing and rejoice for your work is done.

Thank you Lord for a HEART that won't let me forget!

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