FMF: Following Jesus

Joining Kate  for another Five Minute Friday

Follow:

As a child, I used to read the verse, "take up your cross and follow me," and I never really understood what it meant. I used to think it was very strange. As I grew I started to understand it a bit better, as I had to bear things like ridicule from non-Christian friends, and being left out of things that happened on Sunday mornings because my family went to church every Sunday without fail unless you were home sick in bed.

Now in my adult life, I am learning a whole new meaning to the phrase, "take up your cross and follow me."

I am learning that every single one of us has a cross to bear. We were given it at conception in our mothers' wombs along with the sin-nature that was handed down from Adam. We all have to bear that symbol of death and destruction due to sin.

We don't have a choice what our particular cross looks like. For me, it partly looks like saying good-bye to my precious babies. For my cousin it partly looks like raising four preschoolers one of which has special needs including a feeding tube. For my college roommate and dear friend it partly looks like losing her father as a teenager.  For a dear friend and colleague this week it partly looks like holding her mother's hand in the hospital not knowing if she will ever come home on earth or if it is her time to go home to heaven.

We do not have a choice whether or not we will bear a cross, and we do not have a choice what our particular cross might look like each day, but we do have a choice of what to do with our cross. Some choose to buckle under the weight of carrying our crosses ourselves, barely inching along life's road weighed down, tired, and discouraged. Others choose to try to ignore their crosses, paint them up fancy and disguise them to look like something else. Some might just plunk their cross down in the dirt and refuse to go on.

Me, I have chosen to daily pick up my ugly, heavy, pock-marked cross, and follow Jesus. I follow Him because He bears my cross alongside me, shouldering the heavy load. I follow Him because He doesn't disguise it or ignore it, but rather promises to one day exchange it for a crown of glory. I follow Him because He gives me strength to put one foot in front of the other, even when I cannot see where the road I am walking goes up ahead, and I am surrounded by darkness.

And one day when I get that crown of glory, I will lay it down again at His feet and I will be able to say with that great hymn, "All the way, my savior led me!"

Sibling Day

In case you didn't know, today is sibling day.

My Facebook news-feed is filled with photos of people with their siblings. Some when they were children, some as adults, some even have both.

As much as I love my siblings, and enjoyed seeing the photo my own sister posted, it does hurt a bit. You see, I will never be able to have a photo with all my siblings, and neither will June Bug. I can't help but wonder how many of those other photos have missing siblings as well.

Though it was never talked about a lot in my house growing up, I lost a sibling to miscarriage when I was 4 years old. We never got to meet this sweet baby, and I don't even think we knew about the existence of this baby until we were much older. I never really gave it much thought until I experienced losing a baby of my own.

And now June Bug has two siblings she'll never get to see this side of heaven. I could try to get a photo, using the teddy bear we have for Mikayla and the little owl knitted by a fellow loss-Mama for Selah, but it's just not the same. Our family photos will be forever incomplete just like my heart will forever be missing pieces.

Until we are made complete. One day when I stand before my savior and he fills in the holes in my heart with His healing love, and fills my aching arms with my babies I miss so much, I will be complete. Until then, I will be glad that June Bug has a sibling she will hopefully get to see and touch and play with come July. I will be thankful for the siblings God blessed me with on earth and the laughter and tears we have been through together. And I will mourn for the missing siblings in far too many homes.  

The Mingling of Hope and Grief

Yesterday was Palm Sunday.

Last year on Palm Sunday I was in the hospital recovering from labor. I spent most of the day either in numb shock, or curled in a ball bawling my eyes out wishing I had died too.

This year I was at church, and only cried twice; when we sang songs about Jesus overcoming death.

Jesus overcame death. Mikayla's death has been conquered, destroyed, overthrown. She is alive and well. Selah, too. Not alive in my arms, but alive nonetheless.

Right now I am 22 weeks pregnant. I am a handful of days past the point where Mikayla left my womb for heaven. Mikayla's 1st heaven day is coming soon, and this Easter season will probably forever bring with it reminders of my sweet girl gone too soon. It's been an emotional week, and will probably continue to be an emotional time until I make it past April 13th.

And yet, the emotions are not all bad. The cup is not only full of grief. There is a sweetness to it as well. A sweetness that my babies are enjoying the wonder of heaven. A sweetness that this new little girl is wriggling around inside of me healthy and strong. A sweetness in knowing that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God. A sweet hope that all things are indeed working together for good.

So despite the triggers of grief that rip the scabs off my healing heart and cause the sorrow to flow once more, I grasp hold of the glorious promise that God is the healer, the giver and keeper of life, and I cry "Hosannah! Hosannah! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!" and the prayers flow out of my lips as the tears flow down my cheeks and the hands are lifted high in praise to the God who knows the pain of watching your child die, and the God who brings life out of death.

My Letter to Grief

I got the idea for writing a letter to grief from Kate Motaung, who encouraged readers to write their own letters. I began this letter several weeks ago, but it got to be too raw, and I had to back away for a bit, but I came back today feeling ready to tackle it. So here goes.



Dear Grief,

Over the past nine months I have tried holding you at arms length. I have tried bringing you in for a snuggle session. I have tried ignoring you and trying to pretend you were never there. I have gotten angry at you. I have coddled you like a newborn kitten and fed you until you became a tiger who nearly turned to devour me. I have researched you. I have tried to plumb your depths. I have ridden out your waves, even when I nearly drowned. You could not take me under.

Grief, you came into my life that early morning in the Emergency Room of the local hospital when I stared at the screen of the ultrasound machine, eyes searching for my wiggly baby and only finding a still stone instead. Strange that there should be a stone there. Where was my baby? Was she hiding? There must be some mistake. And then when I should have been hearing the delightful wild-stallion cantering clip-clop of her precious heartbeat, there was only silence. And I knew. I knew she was gone, and you crept in and made yourself known. An unwelcome guest in a place that should have been filled with hope and reassurance. You showed your ugly head that morning.

 You weren't through with me yet. In fact, you were only getting started. You embraced me as I was caught in the throes of contractions which should usher forth life, but instead were only bringing forth death. You held me as my precious daughter slipped into this world silent and still, when the only cries were that of a mother whose heart was ripped in two.

You were gracious to me those first few weeks. You let me ignore you for a bit; hold you away from me. But slowly, slowly, bit by bit you wormed your way in. You twisted into my heart and left it open and raw and bleeding. Scabs have formed now, but every so often you like to come and rip the scabs off as well, bringing up all the pain all over again.

You've been a constant shadow to me these nine months, sometimes almost disappearing for brief times when the joyful sun shines so brightly straight ahead that I can ignore you for a while. At other times you stretch large and spooky and make me want to hide under the covers like a frightened child. Especially now, that new life is growing in my womb. Now I am scared of you more than ever. I know your full power, and I don't want you coming close again. And yet I am powerless to stop you.

But I don't have to. I can live with you. I can let you come and go, ebb and flow, because I know that there is one in me who is greater than you or anything else in the world. He beat death. And because He beat death, He will one day banish you, grief, forevermore.

So I can close my eyes tonight, snuggle with my pillow, and sleep in peace knowing that though you can be so all-encompassing some days, you are merely a constant companion until the day I see Jesus and He strips you off of me and clothes me instead in pure joy.

Until then,

A Grieving Mama choosing to live by FAITH, not fear

Day 31 and FMF:The God who Never Leaves

GO:

I will never leave you nor forsake you.

Some people ask, where was God? Where was God when I was hurting, sick, in pain? Where was God when my loved one left this earth too soon? Where was God when my heart was shattered into pieces?

I know my God is here. I know He never left me nor forsook me. I know He was holding my tight the night my world fell apart.

Some ask what kind of God would take away a baby that was loved and wanted and precious and perfect?

I know that God works all things together for good. I know He always has a plan. I know my babies are not suffering, but are rejoicing and worshiping around the throne of heaven! What kind of God gives us that opportunity to be with Him in glory!?!

He has never left my side. He has never let me down. He has never forsaken me. He has held me when I cried and filled my heart with peace and joy when I thought I would never feel those things again. True healing can only come from the great Physician.

I read in a novel the other day that there are 5 kinds of healing: healing of our immune systems constantly fighting off illness, healing through medical treatment, truly miraculous healing, healing of our hearts and attitudes even as our bodies continue to suffer, and finally the ultimate healing of dying and being given a new glorious body that will never be in need of healing again. My babies have been given ultimate healing, while my grief is being healed in the fourth way - my heart and attitude are slowly but surely looking more toward Christ and less at the horrible pain left behind after loss.

STOP.

Just a note - I found a new doctor. I love my new doctor. Seriously, even though he is expensive, he is worth every penny. He has ordered a whole new set of tests to try to find answers, and has given me a game-plan for what to try even if we don't get any answers, he's ready to throw everything he's got at me in hopes something will work. And after basically being told it was all a big fluke so we'll just watch and see, someone who is willing to DO SOMETHING is a breath of fresh air! And, since I just started my first cycle after losing Selah, it's time to try again! Praying that God will give us the desire of our hearts soon; praising Him in all things.

Day 15: LIFE!

Day 15 of 31 Days  of Healing is very special to me and near and dear to my heart. I also LOVE that Kate's prompt for today is LIFE! I believe we have a God who is sovereign even (especially?) in the small things - even things like blog prompt words, so I know this is no accident!

Today is special because it is a holiday. Not one you'll see on many calendars, not one you'll get a day off work for, and not one that anyone ever really wants to have a reason to celebrate. It is a holiday I wish there was never any need for, but since we do live in a fallen world where babies die, I am glad there is a day set aside to remember.

Today, October 15th, is set aside as Pregnancy and Infant Loss (PAIL) Remembrance Day.

The Bible talks a lot about remembering, and special times of remembrance for His people. They generally involve remembering God's faithfulness during times of trial and tribulation.

Today this is my day of remembrance of God's faithfulness to me in the midst of Mikayla's stillbirth and Selah's miscarriage. I remember God's faithfulness to me and my family in the days that followed. I proclaim again God's continuing faithfulness to me today and forever!

As part of PAIL remembrance day, people around the world light candles at 7 pm local time and keep them lit for at least one hour. The idea is that this will create a continuous  wave of light around the world.

I lit 4 little tea-light candles tonight. One for Mikayla Sophie, one for Selah, a third for June Bug: one for each of my babies. I wrote their names on their candles. On the fourth I wrote one word: hope. For me this candle represents the hope that God will bring more children into our family when His timing is right.

At one point tonight, I glanced over and all the candles had gone out except for June Bug's. I felt a bit like it was an omen of some kind, that only my living-on-earth child's candle had not gone out. I felt like it was a bad sign that the "hope" candle had gone out, especially!

But then I thought to myself, "What can you do when you start to lose hope?" I realized that the best way to rekindle hope is the way the writers of scripture so often did, by revisiting and remembering God's goodness, grace, mercy, and faithfulness in the past.

I looked at that June Bug candle still brightly glowing in the darkness, and it was very symbolic for me. June Bug is a living picture of God's faithfulness to me. So I used her candle to re-light the others.

As I did so I remembered that my hope is in God's faithfulness, goodness, mercy, and grace. I remembered God's faithfulness and grace in giving June Bug life that continues here on earth, and for giving Mikayla and Selah their brief lives here on earth followed by a life that can never be extinguished.

I thank God for LIFE. For June Bug's life. For Mikayla's life. For Selah's life. For the lives of the children He will bless us with in the future, whether biologically or through adoption or some other way of His choosing. I thank Him most of all for giving us eternal LIFE through His death and resurrection.

So today, we remember. We celebrate the LIFE of these little souls who came to us for a short time before returning to the giver of LIFE.

Day 14: Away

Well, on day 14 of 31 Days of Healing, Kate's  prompt was actually quite appropriate because I was literally away, so I'll do 2 posts today to make up and get back on track.

5 minutes on the word AWAY.

GO:

My babies have gone away. Nothing can bring them back.

But my God is still here. He has always been here. He will always be here. My God will never go away. I might feel like God is distant, or I am distant from God, but really He is always near and it is only my perspective that changes.

My love for my babies will never go away. His love for me will never go away.

"I love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my babies you'll be!" ~Robert Munsch

STOP

but never stop. Never stop going to the heavenly father with prayer and petition and thanksgiving. Never stop remembering. Never stop loving.

Day 9: Join the Praise

Day 9 of 31 Days of Healing ; following Kate's prompt - "Join" for 5 minutes of unedited free-write.



Welcome to the club, Jenna. The club of mothers who have little ones waiting for us in heaven. We know that no one wants to be a member of this club. The rite of passage to get in is one of the worst you will ever experience.

One thing I must say, though, is that the members here are incredibly supportive. We all know how much it sucks and how terrible it is to say good-bye to your baby, so we gather around any new recruits with open arms and flowing tears to embrace you with love and understanding.

Your little Shane joins a chorus of precious little souls who gather around the throne of our heavenly father, singing praise without ending to the one who gave them the blessing of being carried in a womb full of love, for however short a time, and the greater blessing of living for eternity free from suffering, sadness, and pain.

Jenna, I want to thank you on behalf of all of us in this club, for being brave enough to share your journey. Thank you for speaking out and letting others know that your baby matters, and by extension, our babies matter. Your Shane has touched the lives and hearts of thousands, and though our babies may only touch a few in our immediate families, they matter. Each one of them has changed the world just by being here, even the ones who never took a breathe of air outside the womb.

So we join together, a club of Mamas missing our Little Blessings, to sing praises to our Father who allowed us to carry them wrapped in our love, and gave us the strength to survive giving them back so soon.

We join together to praise through our tears. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Day 8: Little Yellow Duck Feet

Day 8 of 31 days of healing

There is a bag up high on my closet shelf. I put it up there on April 12, 2014 after coming home from a children's clothes swap at church. I have only taken it down once since then, but after reading this article on Still Standing, I decided to get it down again tonight.

Inside there is a little yellow sleeper with frogs and turtles, and a little yellow duck on a turtle's back. There's a green-and-white sleeper with bumblebees. A sweet sleep sack with zoo animals, and an elephant that says "Little peanut," a yellow romper with a bunny rabbit eating a carrot, two pairs of tiny white socks that were so soft I couldn't pass them by. My favorites are a pair of orange, yellow, green, and turquoise striped newborn gloves to keep those tiny razor-nails from scratching a precious little face, and a pair of little white pants with yellow duck faces on the feet.

Mikayla's clothes.

These clothes were lovingly gathered for a baby I didn't yet know was a girl. A baby I didn't yet know would never get to wear any of these things. A baby I never would have dreamed would go to heaven early the next morning, on Palm Sunday.

If I had known, would I have done things differently? Probably not. Well, I would have added in a healthy dose of pink there with the yellows and greens and whites. I might not have taken the practical things like bibs and plain white onesies (which was the reason I took down the bag once before, to send those things to my brother-in-law whose wife is expecting a baby boy any day now. I didn't want to do it, and cried the whole time I was sorting through Mikayla's things, but my husband convinced me, so Mikayla's cousin will get to wear her clothes that she never got a chance to). I might have taken something with me to the hospital when I went to the ER with contractions, so that I could have taken a short while to be Mikayla's mother in some small "normal" way, dressing her and holding her tiny body close to my heart.

But I didn't know.

Now I do. Now, those clothes are incredibly precious to me. They, along with a positive pregnancy test and a single red rose that I dried are the only physical reminders I have that Mikayla ever lived here on Earth. For Selah, I have even less - only the pregnancy test and a blurry photo that no one but me would ever recognize as my baby held on the tip of my finger. But a person's a person, no matter how small.

I pray that God will allow me to put these clothes to good use some day, and Mikayla and Selah can look down from heaven and see a little baby brother or sister with little yellow duck feet, and their Mama smiling as she carries this baby in her arms, and two others in her heart.

Day 6: What I Know for Sure

Day 6 of 31 Days of Healing

In the wake of tragedy, so often we let our emotions run wild. Comfort and peace, however, are found in what I know about God and His plans for my life. I decided today to follow Kate's prompt: Know, and make a list of truths to repeat over to myself when I am tempted to give in to despair and anxiety and worry.

I KNOW:

• That God is on His throne  Isaiah 46:9-10  "I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose.’"

• That He is working all things together for good (Romans 8:28)

• That my babies are in heaven, free from suffering in the arms of Jesus Revelation 21:4 "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

• That He who began a good work in me WILL carry it through to completion (Philippians 1:6)

• That I do not need to be anxious about anything, but rather I need to in everything by prayer and petition and with thanksgiving present my requests to God (Philippians 4:6)

There are so many things I don't know, and so many questions I still have, but I do KNOW that God is good all the time, and all the time, God is good. 

Day 2: Point of View

I'm back for day 2 of the 31-day writing challenge, and decided to also join Kate Motaung doing a five-minute free-write on the topic: View.

GO:

Why is it so easy for us to fix our view on the past, dwelling on what has already taken place, mulling over the "what if"s and the "if only"s. Wondering if maybe things could have, should have, would have been different if...

It's also easy to fix my view on the future, giving in to anxiety and dwelling on fears of the unknown. Fears that history will repeat itself and I will be asked to give up a baby too soon again.

Why is it so hard sometimes to view everything through the proper lens? The glasses that God wants us to put on?

Instead of wondering about and lamenting the past, I should be focusing on what I can and should be doing right now. Spending time in the word. Building relationships. Worshiping. Fishing for men. Making disciples.

Instead of worrying about and fearing the future, I should be looking toward eternity. Remembering always that this life is not the end, and my treasure must not be found here where moth and rust destroy and thieves break in and steal and death snatches away life and seems to have the last laugh. Instead I should be building up treasure in heaven where moth and rust do not destroy and thieves cannot break in a steal and where LIFE has swallowed up death in a final and decisive victory.

Lord, grant me your point of view.

STOP

Selah - Waiting for us in Heaven

Well, it happened.

The day I feared would come ever since I got a positive pregnancy test.

On Monday, I started bleeding.

At first I tried to write it off as just irritation from a combination of having a yeast infection and having been intimate, but then the clots started coming.

I never had any physical pain. It was over quickly and peacefully, at home. No emergency room visits and cold, hard hospital bed and insensitive doctors. From the time the clots started until it was all over was only about 2 hours. I am grateful for that.

I am also grateful knowing where my baby is - with big sister Mikayla, and our Heavenly Father. I don't know if this baby was a boy or girl as it was too early, only 8 weeks, so I chose the name Selah.

Selah.

A pause. A rest. A time to reflect on what has come before and anticipate what is to come next. A time to praise God for His goodness and faithfulness that endure forever.

Selah. A reminder that God in on His throne.

And so in place of a lingering rainbow I am plunged once more into the midst of the storm, but I know where to look for my lighthouse. I know where the buoy is that will lift me up and keep me from drowning. I know a loving Father who will shelter me under His wings until the storm has passed, and then whisper His tender mercies to me as I huddle in my cave in the after-math until I have found the strength to venture forth again.

Five Minute Friday: Whisper

Prompt of the week for  minutes unedited writing: Whisper

GO:

I love the way God whispers in my life. Have you had this experience? Where it seems all the sermons you hear, all the devotionals you read, and all the testimonies of friends all seem to be sending the same message to your heart? It is times like these that I can feel the holy spirit moving the most.

Sometimes God shouts into our lives with one pivotal moment where the light-bulb goes on and we suddenly see truth from a new perspective and our lives will never be the same again. 

Other times He whispers. Quietly, persistently, gently whispering truth in our ear. And we say, "yes, God, I get it." And He whispers again, and you think, "Yes, I understand." And again you hear the whispering and if you are not careful you start to brush it off because you have heard it so many times from so many different places in so many different voices that you think it's old news. 

God's good news never grows old. Listen to the whispers. Hold them tight. Hide them in your heart.

I remember a time in college when I kept hearing sermons about sickness and death and pain. The topic kept coming up in school chapels, and devotionals I was reading. I even read several novels for enjoyment that touched on the same topic! 

And then BOOM. Out of no-where my father was diagnosed with kidney disease and my mother had cancer. I stood face-to-face with the possibility that death might take one, or both, of my parents. Suddenly all those whisperings came back to me, and were my anchor in the storm. They helped me remember that It Is Finished and death no longer has the last word.

Thankfully, after surgery the doctors discovered that the only cancerous cells in my mother had already been removed in the biopsy, and a willing friend was found who was a match and gave his kidney to my father. They are both still here to love on June-bug. 

Fast-forward to 2013. I always take notes in church, but I generally took notes on the bulletin which invariably ended up in the garbage. In November of 2013 I decided to start keeping the notes, so I got a notebook to take sermon notes in. (By the way, the one bulletin that "happened" to get stuck in between two books on a shelf instead of thrown away, was a sermon about Job's trials and God's sovereignty).

• December 8th the sermon was about God's purpose and plan.

• On December 15th, right after I found out I was pregnant with Mikayla, the pastor gave an incredible list of verses that are promises God gives to His people - I looked them all up and copied them into my notebook.

• On December 29th, the sermon title was: Is God Enough When I have Lost a Loved One?

• January 12th was about Jonah. One of the quotes I wrote down? "Run to Him and not from Him when troubles come."

• A follow-up on Jonah on January 26th, I have written down, "God can handle our anger. When you are angry, listen to others, express your emotions, trust God, and take Him at His word."

• March 1st, my aunt posted on Facebook about a free Kindle book about Romans 8 - I downloaded it and read through it over the next few weeks.

• March 16th, the sermon was all about our suffering and God's comfort.

• April 13th, Mikayla was stillborn.

• April 27th, the sermon was about the defeat of death. 

• June 24th, I downloaded another free Kindle book which I highly recommend:

•             A Place of Healing

• June 29th, the sermon was about walking in God's will.

• July 6th, I wept through most of the sermon about the beauty of heaven.

• July 13th, that very-difficult 3-month anniversary Sunday, I wrote down in my notes, "(Rev.1:4) is a reminder that we are not only saved by grace, but also kept by grace through times of trial, and peace comes as a result of that grace."

And I could go on and on about the little whispers of God's grace and comfort that He has injected into my daily living over the past year. All the little things that would have been easy to miss or dismiss or forget, but when all added together have been a powerful barge to keep me afloat in my sea of confusion and grief. 

I do not believe anything is a coincidence, and I know that God whispered each and every one of these truths into my life at the moments I needed them most. I am thankful that God prompted me to record them and keep them for when I am tempted to forget. And He keeps on whispering His words of love in my ear.

STOP.

Whoa. That was way more than five minutes, but it was worth it. What has God been whispering to you lately?

His Eye is on the Sparrow

One of the things that has been the most difficult for me in the aftermath of Mikayla's stillbirth is June-bug's reactions and questions. She has always been a very inquisitive child, and some of the thoughts she comes up with astound me.

Directly after the stillbirth, she showed some regression which I've read is pretty typical for children who experience trauma or loss. She started having bathroom accidents more often, and sucking on her fingers. Thankfully that has gotten better and though I still find her sucking her fingers every so often, it's not constant like it used to be.

The questions, though, have not let up.

I remember one night I was putting her to bed and we had been talking about the lizard we had seen in the backyard that afternoon. She piped up with, "Mommy, what makes lizards die?" We discussed different things like lack of food, old age, illness, being eaten by larger animals, etc. She then asked the same question of chickens (the other animal in our backyard). I had a feeling I knew where it was leading, but I continued giving her reasons chickens might die. Finally she asked, "Mommy, what makes peoples die?" At first I tried to skirt around the issue and listed things that were in common with the chickens and lizards: old age, illness, lack of food, getting hurt like in a car accident. She wasn't satisfied with that, however and added to my list, "Or when too much of their blood comes out because of the baby in their tummy?"

I was floored. I had no idea that she had been bottling up this knowledge (or suspicion at least) that I could have died if I had lost too much blood while I was pregnant. I realized that for her the trauma wasn't just the loss of a baby sister, but the fear of losing a mother as well!

Today we went to the park, just June-bug and me. We went on the swings, played on the see-saw, and I watched her go down each of the slides. She left the smallest slide for last, I think because it is the least exciting. As she walked over to climb the ladder onto the platform, I heard her gasp. When I rushed over (because I have become somewhat over-protective since April), I saw her pointing at a little sparrow.

The sparrow was obviously dead. It was not moving, and had ants crawling all over it. June-bug just sat and watched it for a few minutes, then said, "Mommy, that bird is dead, right?" I told her yes it was, and then she said, "Mommy, I can't take it home, right?" I told her no, you can't take dead things home. Then she asked, "Mommy, do sometimes people take dead birds home? You know, to try to make them better and not dead anymore?"

I must admit I teared up at that, but had to reply truthfully that once something is dead, people can't make it better. We can only make it better if it is only sick or hurt, and even then sometimes it will still die. June-bug took that in for a minute, then said she wished the bird was only sick so she could help it, because it was so cute and sweet, but then she added, "But if it wasn't dead it wouldn't be here. Not sitting here on the playground. It would be flying around in the sky or sitting in its nest."

She sat mournfully for a few minutes just looking at the little bird. Then she piped up, "People can't fix dead things, but Jesus takes people who die to heaven. Do you think heaven needs birdies, too?"

So I quoted her the scripture about God watching every sparrow that falls. She smiled then, and told me that Jesus would take this little bird to heaven and make it fly there for Baby Sissy to watch.

And my heart soared with the sparrows that God keeps an eye on, and I know He watches my June-bug and me.

Five Minute Friday: Belong

GO: 

Where do I belong? I feel like my life has been one long struggle to find belonging. 

As I said in my post 10 things about me, I have changed addresses on average once per year of life (a few were longer than a year, but 3.5 is my record, and many have been less than a year). My childhood was a pattern of moving somewhere new, getting to know people, finally making friends, and then after a short time of actually having friends, it was time to go somewhere new. I am what they call a third-culture kid (TCK). Part one thing and part another and really not fitting or belonging anywhere in particular.  

After a while I got so tired and scared of saying good-bye that I stopped letting anyone in beyond hello. I put up my walls and closed off my heart and kept everyone at arm's length.

But no one can live like that. Not for long. It makes for a lonely and sad existence. So I found my courage; courage to let people in. Courage to build relationships even if I knew they would sooner or later be rooted up and tossed aside. Courage to love, even if it meant having my heart broken.

And I discovered something. The only lasting relationships I have ever had with other human beings all have something in common. The only truly meaningful relationships are those that have pointed me closer to my savior. The only lasting friendships are the ones with brothers and sisters in Christ. They are the ones I can count on to be there for anything whenever I need them. 

I figured out where I belong; where my home is. I belong with my savior. My home is the kingdom of heaven. I don't fit in anywhere on this earth because I will only truly fit in when I get to my eternal home. All relationships on this earth will pass away, except those with other citizens of the heavenly kingdom. It is investing in those relationships --  first with Christ and then with other Christians -- that makes this life meaningful and gives us that sense of belonging.

STOP. 

Fear

I used to be afraid of needles.

I was so afraid of needles, that I passed out after getting a tetanus booster as a teenager. I looked away, gritted my teeth, and grimaced, forcing myself to take slow deep breathes whenever I needed a shot or blood draw or anything else involving needles. The worst were IVs. I hated when they put it in, I hated having it in, and I hated when they took it out.

I'm not afraid of needles anymore. Bring it. Poke me with all you've got.

At one point while I was pregnant with Mikayla, I had an IV in each arm, and got blood drawn 3 times in 2 days for various tests. The nurses were injecting antibiotics into those IVs every 6 hours, and I could feel it going into my veins. One hand turned all puffy and they had to re-do that IV in a different spot, and then the one on the other elbow started hurting really badly, so they moved it to my hand, but my elbow hurt for days afterwards.

There is a possibility that I will need daily injections when/if I get pregnant again to be able to carry a baby safely to term. Go ahead. Give me the needles.

I'm not afraid of needles anymore because I have faced something that inflicted far more pain and terror, and I am still standing. My fear of losing my child is so much more than my fear of needles, that I would endure poking myself with needles 100 times every day for 9 months and keeping multiple IVs in at all times if it would guarantee I would get to bring my baby home from the hospital to raise.

I know there are no guarantees in this life. I know even with as far as medicine has come, it is not so simple to say that a positive pregnancy test equals taking home a baby nine months later. And that scares me so much more than any needle ever could.

But I do know there are guarantees in the life to come. That I will get to spend eternity with my savior and my baby in a place needles will never be needed again for anything. Hallelujah!

Five Minute Friday: Lost

GO:

Oh my. Lost. What a topic for me. I could write for 5 days about lost.

I have lost. I lost my baby, my daughter, my love. I lost being pregnant, and 3am feedings, and poopy diapers, and toothless grins. I lost first steps, and first day of school, and first love, and first heart-break. I lost graduation days, and a wedding day, and grandchildren. I lost a lifetime I was looking forward to sharing so much.

I feel lost. Some days I feel like I am drifting through a stormy sea without a compass. I don't know where I am or where I'm going, all I know is the waves keep coming and the clouds keep rolling and the thunder keeps crashing inside my head and it feels like all will be lost.

I hate the word lost. I hate having to say I lost my baby girl. Like she was my car keys or cell phone or insignificant trinket that I misplaced. "She's not actually lost!" I want to scream. I know where she is, I just can't go there to get her and bring her back.

And would I even if I could?

No, I don't think I would, because I know that though she is lost to earth, she has been found by heaven. She has been found by Love incarnate and wrapped in immortal splendor never to be lost again.

I know she has found. She has found happiness and joy worshiping at the feet of the savior. She has found an everlasting home where no tear will ever have to fall from her eyes. She has found peace and everlasting mercy.

I know that I can find my way. Because I know where my Mikayla is, I may miss her every day, but I know where to find my happiness and my joy and my peace. And it is worshiping at the feet of that same savior who holds her in His arms, because He carries me, too. He has found me and ransomed me and will never let me go.

Though I can never get back all the moments I wish I could have shared on Earth with Mikayla, I know they all pale in comparison to the joyous eternity of praising God side-by-side with my daughter.

I once was lost, but now am found. To live is Christ, and to die is gain.

Five Minute Friday: Nothing

GO:

Nothing can separate us from the love of God we have in Christ Jesus.

I have nothing to bring to the table. I come empty-handed. He holds everything in His arms. He lavished everything on me. He showers me with gifts from above. He takes away my nothing-ness and fills me with His everything.

Nothing but the blood of Jesus can wash away my sin; nothing but the blood of Jesus can make me whole again.

There was nothing in Him to attract us to Him. A man of sorrows, acquainted with suffering. He gave up everything to become nothing so we could have everything.

And how can I do anything but lay down everything I have (which all amounts to nothing), to take up my cross and gain nothing for myself in this world, but everything for Him and in Him for all eternity.

Nothing can snatch me out of His hands.

STOP.


Isaiah 53:2-12
Romans 8:38-39
Matthew 16:24-26
John 10:28
#PreachingTheGospelToMyself

Sea Glass Heart

We live on an island. Paradise. I have always loved the ocean, and feel so blessed to live in the midst of it now. On our beaches you won't find many shells, mostly coral. But you can find sea glass. Since we lost Mikayla I have been collecting sea glass.

I have always been fascinated by sea glass. How the ocean takes something so ugly and sharp as a broken beer bottle (which is where most sea glass comes from) and turns it into a shiny, smooth, beautiful thing.

The process isn't easy for the glass, though. It gets thrown around, beat up, and pieces of it rubbed clean off. It has to go through the nitty-gritty sand. It braves the storms and gets tossed around by the waves before it washes up on shore a thing of beauty to reflect the light of the sun.

It reminds me of what God does with our hearts. He took us when we were ugly sharp sinners, and is ever smoothing out our rough places and shining us up until one day we will shine like gems for Him in heaven. The process isn't easy. It involves a lot of hurt and tearing away of things we held dear, and wild stormy waves.

But in the end, He makes all things beautiful in His time.

The Face of a Little Girl

I found this song today. Listened to it weeping and clutching my heart because it so perfectly speaks what I am feeling right now. I have never longed for heaven so much as I do now that I know it is the only place I will get any of these things he talks about in the song.

I never even got a good look at the face of my little girl. I have no pictures either. I can't wait to get to heaven and see those beautiful brown eyes and hold her precious little hand and kiss her sweet cheeks. As Paul said, "to live is Christ and to die is gain." But I know God is not finished with me yet. He has plans for me here still. I have a June Bug who needs her Mama. So I will make the most of my sojourn on Earth, all the while longing for the day I will be with my baby girl again.