Heaven

There are also heavenly bodies and there are earthly bodies; but the splendor of the heavenly bodies is one kind, and the splendor of the earthly bodies is another. 1 Corinthians 15:40


I had no idea that the day we lost our third child would have been just the beginning of a long, hard journey our family would travel.  And, looking back on the road we've walked, I weep with ache, yet am filled with joy.  And, I look ahead to the future with hope.  Hope for tomorrow, and hope for eternity; for the day I will hold my daughters once again.


Ah heaven, I can only imagine.

Promises, Promises

I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. Philippians 4:13


Have you ever heard this phrase before: "God never gives you more than you can handle."?  I'm sure you have, it's a pretty common phrase.  But, have you ever tried to find it in the bible?  You won't, because it's not there.  It's not a promise from God.


I can tell you there WILL be times that things will happen in your life, that you CANNOT handle.  Things that no friend or family member can deliver you from.  Things that you cannot make sense of, or muster up enough power, to overcome.  Things that will shatter you in every way imaginable.  Roads that you will be, seemingly, asked to walk alone.  But you are NEVER alone.  That's a promise (Joshua 1:9, Hebrews 13:5).


God never promised that if we love Him and live for Him that our lives will be easy.  He never promised that we will never have to deal with fear, or heartache, or pain, or loss...


He did however, promise us some pretty amazing things:


For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11


So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10


Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9


You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.
Isaiah 26:3


See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:19


being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:6


I won't pretend to know what our lives will look like from here on out.  I do know that as I go before the Lord with our hopes, our prayers, and our petitions, I will do my best to rest on the promises He has given me; promises He has given us all.  I will do my best to keep my feet on His solid ground (Psalm 40:2).

Chains

The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save.  He will take great delight in you; he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17


So, I don't want to have church all up in here, but this morning as I sat to write, it became obvious that today was not the day for the post I had planned.  And through these whole, now 21 days, I've worked hard to stay in the spirit with the words I share, because really, apart from me you can do nothing (John 15:5b).


Yesterday, after I posted, I began to clean my house while listening to some worship music (as opposed to talk radio which is what I usually do), and I kept seeing an image that I feel like I'm supposed to share with you all.  The image was of hands, wrapped in chains; like chains, wound around wrists, palms up, grasping onto the chains.  And I kept thinking, "just let go".  Just let go of the chains, they are not locked, YOU are holding onto them; from last week, from last year, for half your life.


It sounds so cheesy!!  And, I have to be honest, I feel super creepy and a tad crazy in sharing this.  But I KNOW this message isn't just for me, although I also know that I need to take this holy advice myself, almost daily, because I know I choose to hang onto some things that are keeping me from being who I am called to be.  Choosing chains.  What's that about?  But, if this image and these words resonate in your heart, then I'd look crazy again and again because I want freedom for you, as much as I want it for me.  Just let go.




https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UXn_OuJkvE

Pure Joy?

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, James 1:2


Disclaimer:  what I'm about to share with you, has taken me at least five years to feel and know, and six years to say out loud.  Please read it with an open mind and heart, and if you're feeling stuck yourself, I pray that these words will be a blessing to you and not a source of self-condemnation.  If that's you, if you're feeling stuck, please read with a gentle-to-yourself spirit.  We are all a work in progress, and I thank God He's not even close to done with me yet.  Amen?


Did you know that James, the author of the verse above, was Jesus' half brother?  That means that he witnessed, first hand, the torment and persecution his own brother went through.  And in the end, James loses Jesus to the crucifixion, a horrible, torturous death, to say the least.  I'd say, based on that alone, James knows what he's talking about.


I, for one, however, would not have agreed.  Trials equal joy?  Pure joy?  No thank you!  I choose door number two.  I'll keep my "lacking of pure joy" life, thank you very much.  I'm good riiiight here.


BUT today, I have to say, I do agree with James.


I felt like I was supposed to go through this process, writing this blog, last year at this time, but I couldn't do it.  I was too afraid.  Now I see that one of the sources of fear was exposing the shame, that I realized just a few days ago, that I carry in regards to Eadie Joy's life (thank you all for helping me process that).  I had thought what I carried, in regards to Eadie, was simply regret.  But it turns out, it was more toxic. 


The other source of fear though comes from the fear of sounding heartless, and even a little insane.  See today, I can see a new me.  Today, I can see a better me, regardless.


I miss my girls every day.  I wish their little lives would still be a part of ours, that our family would be getting to watch them grow and change, with us, but that just isn't an option.  I hate that A and G don't get the siblings they've longed for since the beginning of this whole mess, I hate that.  BUT!


I cannot speak for each member of my family, so I will only speak for me; I am changed, for the better, because of this.  I am changed for the better, regardless of the loss that I, as a mother, have endured.  I am better.  I'm a better mom:  I SEE my kids.  I adore them.  I do not worship them.  I know I am entrusted to them, by God.  They are a gift.  I once saw them as a task....


I am a better wife:  I (try to) LISTEN to my husband, to his words.  I take his feelings into account.  I allow him to lead us (I GET OUT OF THE WAY) because I hate the alternative, and when I feel he cannot, or will not, I shut my mouth and I pray; for him, for me (and my runnin' mouth), for our family unit...


I am a better human:  I've always had the gift of empathy; the ability to take my shoes off, and put on yours, but so many times I've chosen not to used that gift.  I use it now.  I choose to be Jesus with skin on as much as I am called, for HIM, because of what He's done for me, because of what He's done in me.


And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28


People!  He's talking about us!  Now, that's good news.    

The Healing House

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion-- 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. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor. Isaiah 61:1-3


Oh how I adore these words.  Such hope.  Such promise.


I remember reading this passage shortly after losing Eadie and being full of such doubt.  We had been, what I like to describe as: hit square in the face with a baseball bat, twice.  These hope-filled words surely cannot be meant for us.  God's got it out for this family, and I don't know why. 


What happened to us, caused the holy triune to fracture in my traumatized mind.  I hated God.  He was supposed to be my Heavenly Father.  He, after all, had the ability to heal our girls, to deliver us from the path we were asked to walk.  He could have taken the cup we were asked to drink.  He did not.  Yet, I clung to Jesus; white knuckles on His sturdy, loving shoulders, but also the desire to push Him away; trapped in a push-pull space with him for years.  The Holy Spirit; quiet to my deaf ears, to my aching soul.  It was a very dark and unsure place.  Knocked so low that I could almost feel the enemy's foot on my throat as he wreaked havoc on our lives, in our marriage.  Trapped in this new reality and deathly afraid it's were we would stay, where I would stay.  We were unrecognizable.  I was unrecognizable.


We ended up moving to a new house, one closer to town and selling our old house to my mother in law.  Turns out, it was a great move for our family.  I find it hard to believe that simply getting out of that environment helped  lead us toward healing, but I do believe it was part of God's plan.  We brought quite a bit of "baggage" with us, of course, but it's where we began to have some pretty amazing breakthroughs (on your own they're called breakthroughs, but as a couple, they are also sometimes called fights, ha, ha) which started with making the choice to trust God again.  How could we not.  We had A and G running around in their little, sweet worlds and without God, it'd be like asking them to walk a tight rope without a net.  No way.  Could not do it.  Would not do it without Him.  The alternative is NOT better.  It wasn't easy. Just being physically touched, by anyone, was hard enough, not to mention being spiritually touched, but slowly and surely, we allowed Him to go to work on the recessed, hidden places of pain that we had carried for well over four years.


God also had some serious work to do in ME, specifically in the baby department.  I had my mind so set and twisted over why I had lost two babies and how I wanted redemption so badly in the form of a "third" child that I, at times, felt crazy, desperate.  The day that twisted mind heap was lifted from me was amazing.  It had been so heavy and so distracting.  I was finally free to be present again.  Free to see some beauty as the ashes began to blow away.


 

Sackcloth, And Ashes

Then Jacob tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and mourned for his son many days. Genesis 37:34


I feel like, as a society, we don't mourn well.  The days of wearing sackcloth, signifying the "wearer" is in deep mourning, are long gone, at least in America.  Maybe it's because we, for some reason, don't want to "stick out".  Sticking out means that maybe we'd have to talk about it, the loss.  But, is that so bad?  I think that's where the healing comes.  Sharing the load.  Talking of the loss.  I look back now and think it was like I was wearing sackcloth in that I had been pregnant, walking all around town, big as a house, and then, not.  Sackcloth.  No baby in a cart with me.  No baby to be found.  I felt like I wanted to hide, everywhere I went, as if carrying the loss was un-presentable.  Yet on the very rare occasion someone would ask me where my baby was, hadn't I been pregnant, I was...relieved, almost.  Grateful to utter my child's name.  Grateful to acknowledge she had really been here. 


Anyway, I digress.


The day Josie died, my midwife, Cynthia, came over.  She brought with her a tiny wood box that her husband had made for our baby to be cremated in.  I remember our whole family gathering around my midwife and the box, on the living room floor.  Cynthia spoke to A and G, about the "box", careful not to go into too much detail: what it was for, what we would do with it.  After placing Josie's body inside, A and G placed flowers in with her, notes, pictures they'd drawn for her about her life, and favorite comfort items they thought she would really want to have.  They were saying goodbye to their sister, and doing it well, and I remember, after closing the lid, G asked if she was still in there; like it was a magic box that would make her disappear.  Such sweet moments, if there were to be any.  Cynthia had given us such a gift; so much more than a box. 


Just like so many things of Eadie's life, the removal of her body was nothing like that. 


Eadie died very late at night, so Brett and I waited until dawn so that A and G could say goodbye to her.  And, because my pregnancy had been deemed "high risk", my midwife hadn't been involved, at least from a medical standpoint.  She had made a home visit, which was of much comfort to me, to check on how Eadie had been doing earlier that month, but for this moment, she wasn't involved.


I remember that it was still dark outside, and stormy as the funeral director came to take Eadie's body.  She was to be transported to Children's for an autopsy; something we agreed to, for more genetic testing.  This put a rush on our letting go process because the autopsy had to be completed within eight to ten hours after her death, yet would provide possible answers to questions that may help A or G later down the road, or other families...I wish we'd had more time. 


Eadie's body was clothed, and wrapped in a blanket.  And that was it.  Where would her body lay as the car moved down the road?  The thought unnerved me.  I also remember thinking she'd be cold.  Strange.  It was one of the worst experiences I've ever had to be a part of, to say the least.


Later that day, we got a call from our doctor at Children's telling us her body had arrived.  There was so much comfort in that phone call.  Strange.  And, he called again when her body was on its way to the funeral home in our town.  Knowing WHERE her body was meant something to me.  Strange.


At the beginning of the work week, I had to go into the funeral home to sign some papers.  Things we hadn't had to do with Josie because her death was imminent, but because Eadie's life had so many questions marks, a lot of the logistics were left for the moment.  I remember sitting in the office, or lobby, or whatever, forcing my body to stay put.  Knowing her body was in that building...I had such an intense desire to hold her tiny body one more time.  Strange.  I knew she was gone, but my very being wasn't willing to accept this fact.


Then Jacob tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and mourned for his son many days. Genesis 37:34  I get it Jacob.  I totally get it.
 

Devastatingly Blue

The Spirit of God has made me; the breath of the Almighty gives me life. Job 33:4


On a sunny Wednesday morning in January, a couple of my friends had come over to visit; there were a few close friends, more like sisters really, that I let into my painful stupor and they had always been so good about not leaving me alone for too long.  And although Christmas had passed, that morning, we had been making ornaments with Eadie's hand prints on them.  Another keepsake I'm so grateful we have, a connection to her. 


I wasn't completely sure that Eadie Joy had begun to slip away from this life, but I had my suspicions.  I guess a mother just knows, even in my numb existence.  But it had become completely evident that day, when while I was nursing my baby girl, she turned blue.  I obviously had not been expecting it, yet I immediately grabbed the bulb syringe and began suctioning the coagulated breast milk form her throat, stimulating her sternum; rescue techniques that had long since been seared into my mind from years of trainings, for various reasons, various professions.  I was crying, and begging...her?  God?  It was the very rawest moment of my life, to date.  My child was dying.  Now.  No warning.  Now.  I remember thinking about Brett and A and G, that they wouldn't get to say goodbye to his daughter, their sister.  We had had so much more time when Josie passed.  How could this be happening, right here, right now? I was completely distraught, to say the least.


After working on my child for a few moments, minutes maybe, I have no idea; Eadie gasped a breath and began to pink up.  Life. 


But, from that moment on, every time I tried to nurse my baby, we'd go through the whole ordeal again.  She was slipping away.  There was no rescuing her from that.  Her systems were shutting down, preparing for her last breath.


And even after resigning myself to the fact that her body was unable to take nourishment any longer, she continued to turn blue, to struggle, as she had that first horrifying moment, over and over and over.  Two days later, on January 15, 2010, Eadie Joy was gone.