Beyond my circle of friends

I was recently at a retreat with many of the women from my church and was again reminded of the absolute importance of friendships in our lives. Where would we be without them? Our journey with Grace would have played out much differently had we not been supported the way we were. Each person who encouraged us along the way (and who still are) were undeserved and deeply valued.

Some people are easy to love. Some are more challenging. Why the difference? As a general rule I would say the people we encounter in life who are the most difficult to love are often the ones who most need it... the one's with a painful past, difficult circumstances and challenging mountains to climb. Jesus had close friends in his disciples but also went out of his way to spend time with those some may have seen as unlovable. A tax collector, a prostitute, a broke widow, some annoying kids...

On Sunday we rushed out of church to get to my mother-in-laws in order to spend some time with her before heading back to my grandpa's to celebrate mothers day there with my mom. As we drove though a really busy part of town we passed a young woman who was walking on the side of the road. Her hands were covering her face and it looked like she was crying. She was too thin, had piercings, dreadlocks and no belongings. There was no where to pull over where we saw her, and after we had passed her Joe asked if I saw that she was barefoot. I considered pulling over but we were in a hurry and I kept driving. We pulled into a drive through for lunch on the road and as we pulled out again a bible story slammed into my mind.

There was once a man who was also walking along a road. He was mugged, beat up and left for dead. Several people passed him on the road. A spiritual leader, a doctor, those who you would have expected to give a helping hand. But they were all too busy and self motivated to go out of their way. In the end a man who was least expected to stop did, then went way above and beyond what would have been expected of his station.

I had driven by her. As we pulled out of the parking lot I backtracked. I didn't figure there was any way she would still be there. The area where she was walking was so busy! Someone must have stopped to help. No one had. We pulled up behind her and I got out of the van and called to her. She turned around to face me and as I saw her face for the first time I wanted to weep. She looked so lost, so deeply hurt, so alone. I asked if she was OK, and if she wanted a ride somewhere. She managed to nod yes then broke into sobs. I didn't now what else to do so I hugged her. She told me a bit of her story and said she was trying to get to her parent house, but that they had kicked her out awhile ago. "I don't have anywhere else to go". I gave her a ride after asking if it would be a safe place. She opened up about some of the pain in her life on the way. When I asked, she told me she had already walked 2 miles (in bare feet while crying). Hundreds of cars had to have passed her. No one stopped to help. Why? Really? Then again I drove by too....

Even she was surprised that I had stopped. She said "Thank you. There aren't many people who would have pulled over to help out someone like me." Apparently she was right. I gave her my number when we got to the house and told her to call if she needed a place to stay... that we'd figure something out together. I asked if I could pray for her. She shook her head no, and I said that was OK. She started to get out of the car after thanking me again. Then she stopped and looked back in to look at me. "My name is ___". I maybe didn't pray with her in my car but believe me I haven't stopped praying for her since she told me her name. I'm not sure if I helped her as much as she did me.

Our friends are so important... but there are those outside our circle that need love too. I'd challenge you (as God has challenged me) to ask God to help you see those around you with his eyes and his heart. Maybe he wants to use you to encourage someone who needs it, or give hope to someone feeling hopeless. Helping that girl took me all of 15 minutes and a little extra gas. Maybe it was worth more to her than that though. I hope so.

Beyond Purpose

Good Friday feels different to me today in light of our experiences this last year. In December, we watched our daughter die. Day after day we sat next to her and silently pleaded with God to change His mind, to give her back, to take away her suffering. Our grief at her loss is at times overwhelming and can leave us emotionally naked. Last night on facebook I watched a video clip posted by a friend from the movie "Passion of the Christ". For most people I think the events of the day Jesus died are mostly an intellectual experience, something we can try to imagine for the sake of understanding and appreciation but something too big to really get our heads or hearts around. We get stuck in the phrases "died for our sins", "suffered on the cross", and "rose again". We hear it a zillion times and the words lose something in the repetition. As I watched that clip and saw the brutality and hatred taken out on Jesus body I nearly threw up. I shook. My mind spun. That was my best friend they were destroying. That was the one who held me in the darkest moments of this last year who was experiencing the utter loneliness of knowing the face of God turned away from him in that moment. It was my Jesus that chose to ask for forgiveness for the very ones who were inflicting his overwhelming pain. He chose to stay in that mind shattering experience of pain for me. I watched on the video as his mother Mary looked on in anguish. I realized that God only turned away because he had no other choice. How could He not sweep in and rescue Jesus if He continued to watch it all happen. I think He turned away from the cross to look at us. To see our faces and our utter hopelessness without the suffering of His only son. To remember the purpose and the plan of Jesus coming to earth in the first place.

Grief brings me closer to an understanding of Gods sacrifice. To the experience of God's separation from His son and Jesus endurance of extreme suffering. Sometimes we feel that God doesn't understand what we are going through in life. We question why God would allow suffering and pain and loss. But these experiences are something God & His Son understand intimately. I may not always understand His purpose for allowing things to happen the way they do... but I will trust Him. Today I am deeply thankful for Good Friday, for forgiveness of sins, and for the bridge the cross makes to heaven for anyone who receives the sacrificial gift. Because of it, today my daughter is with God's son.

Beyond No's

Joe and I were talking last night about how we wish others could see the way God has been faithful during the trials we have had to face in life. Over and over we have seen His hand at work, even though so often it was during the hardest times. The following is the story of Grace's beginning, and how even then God was gifting us with glimpses of His plan.

We dreamed of Grace long before she came to be. We tried for over a year to conceive, and every month my heart sank when I realized it would be another month before we had another chance. My father in law had cancer at the time and as he got sicker we started spending more time out with them to help out. As he moved into hospice services we moved in with them to help to care for him at night. One night while everyone was sleeping, Canton and I were talking about our wanting a baby. He was so tired and the conversation only lasted a couple minutes. Just before he fell asleep he asked me, “What if God says no? Will you still trust Him?” I couldn’t respond. It was like I had been struck over the head by a fallen tree. What if God’s answer was no? Tears rolled down my face as I watched Canton sleep for another hour. Resounding in my heart through the searing pain, I kept answering over and over in my heart... “Yes, I will trust Him. I will always trust Him.”

Canton died just a couple days later. That conversation was the last we ever had. At his reviewal, Joe's cousin approached me asking if I was pregnant. Of course the question was jarring and left me feeling a little overweight. Amy said she had a very vivid dream in which I was playing with a little girl with brown hair who was laughing. She said she knew that it was my little girl. I thought, well maybe God is testing me. Or maybe He is giving me hope for the future. I wiped a tear away and said, “No, I’m not pregnant.” A couple hours later Joe’s sister approached giving me a big hug. “Hi, Annette. I just had to tell you about a dream I had the other night. She went on to tell me that in her dream I had a daughter with brown curly hair who was playing with another little girl who she felt was her daughter (although she did not have children yet either). Are you pregnant?” “No", I said, "but I’m a little freaked out!” I went on to tell Susie about the dream her cousin had just shared.

On the way home I was telling Joe about the strange questions and conversations at the reviewal. “Well, could you be pregnant?” Thinking back, I was a little late, but with the current circumstances of stress in my life wasn’t surprised about that. Besides we’d only been home once in the last month and a half to “do laundry”. After actively trying to get pregnant for a year, it seemed unlikely that the one time we weren’t trying I had gotten pregnant.

The funeral the next day was a wonderful testament to the amazing man Canton was, and the life of service to God he had led. We went to bed that night utterly exhausted... physically, emotionally and spiritually. The next day I couldn’t get the conversations at the reviewal out of my head, so I snuck off to the store for a test. I snuck it back in and couldn’t get into the bathroom fast enough. It was positive. I think I read and reread the package insert 5 times. Positive. Pregnant.

My sister, Alisa was living with us at the time and I got to share the news with both my husband and sister at the same time. My heart soared and I said a little thank you to Canton, for helping me realize that even if God had said no, I knew my answer back would have still been yes.

In the end, our journey with Grace brought us full circle, and back to the original question. When she was diagnosed with cancer and the treatment did not work and our prayers for healing came back as a no... again the question resounded. "What if God says no? Will you still trust him?" Through the pain wrenching at our hearts, we looked back over the evidence of God's presence in the journey of life and there was no other answer but the one that kept repeating in our hearts, "Yes I will trust Him. I will always trust Him".

I'm reading back though the caring bridge journal entries and there was so much I left out. But I will tell the stories as long as you'll listen. There is so much still to learn from it all.

Beyond Winter

The sunshine and warmth of the last few days have melted the stubborn remnants of snow in our yard and the ice on a nearby lake is even giving way to sparking ripples of moving water. After such an emotionally and physically exhausting and never-ending winter, with spring comes a feeling of new beginnings and hope renewed. We've already been barbecuing most of our meals and have taken the girls to the park several times. I pruned the bushes to make room for new growth and cleaned up the straw from our manger scene in the front yard. The trees are budding and our grass is almost green. Ah, spring.

We plan to create a memorial garden in our backyard soon. I have an idea in my head of what I hope to do and am excited to get started on the landscaping we have to do before we can put the flowers and bushes in. There's something healing in doing something physical with pain. With creating a thing of beauty to replace the ugliness of the memories around cancer and loss. I think this garden will be a start. It will be wonderful to have a place to go to reflect and remember Grace and the lessons we learned in the short time she was ours to hold. But wish us luck. It's a big project.

Even with the beauty of spring, I'll admit it's still hard to move forward. I feel kind of guilty for not sinking into a deep dark hole... one that very realistically wants to suck me in. I've heard of mom's who after losing a child become deeply depressed, hopeless and in need of some serious medication. Part of me thinks "Wow. They must love their child more than me. I laughed at a nonsensical joke my 3 year old told me this morning and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on my face this afternoon. My heart soared as I heard a song on the radio and couldn't help but raise my voice with it praising God for his love and mercy." Knowing where Grace is right now makes the ability to move forward possible.... and only that knowledge. I just finished reading a book called "Heaven is for Real" by Todd Burpo. It's about a boy who almost died just before he turned 4, then later started sharing with his parents about his experiences in heaven. In his childlike way he shares about sitting on Jesus lap, meeting family members who were there and many other things. I've never doubted the existence of heaven but this book really made me think more about what it must be like for Grace right now. She is alive! Not in the grave we put flowers on a few days ago. Not in the still cold two dimensional photos hanging on our walls. She is laughing and playing in the very presence of God. I can miss her, and I do so much it hurts. But to waste the rest of my life by allowing darkness to hide me? Grace would be so mad at us throwing away such a God given gift. Moving forward is the only direction we can go.

I recently came across these pictures from Grace's baptism. It brought me back to the wonder of watching her faith develop. She asked Jesus to be her Savior and Lord just before she turned 7. It was cool because for a couple months you could tell she was thinking about God and how He really fit in to her life. For awhile she said she didn't believe he was real, but she kept asking questions and we just tried to answer as simply and truthfully as we could. I never wanted to push her to believe... it had to be driven by God himself. Then one night before bed she told me she knew God was real and that she loved him. We talked about how God could be a part of her by asking Jesus into her heart. She said she really wanted that so we prayed together. When she was 8 she started asking us when she could be baptized. We'd never really talked about baptism with her before. I honestly thought she was too young to get it, but she kept bringing it up. None of her friends at church were doing it, so it wasn't peer pressure. It was the holy spirit in her prompting her to show the world her love for Jesus. So in September 2009 she followed her heart into Forest Lake and our pastor baptized her. She was so proud on that day.

It was only a month later when we learned she had stage 4 cancer and our world was flipped upside down. Grace told us the night before we went to that fateful doctor appointment that her "cancer hurt". She already knew. The holy spirit was whispering in her ear, preparing her for what was to come. You know, through everything she rarely complained. She found joy in everyday things and loved life. One day in the hospital she was sweating and feeling shaky while getting a really nasty chemotherapy. Instead of worrying about it (which I was at the time) she thought it would be cool to see what she could get to stick to her bald head. She managed a piece of paper, a plastic spoon and several other things sitting on her bedside table. The gift of the holy spirit gave her the ability to trust and deal with her reality. The faith of a child is such an amazing thing to see. There is no "junior" holy spirit, or "junior" faith. Kids get the real thing... in fact I think they understand the love of God more fully than we do. No wonder Jesus has a special place in his heart for kids.

Beyond a Suit of Armor

Sorry I haven't written in awhile. I work through things while writing that I don't seem to manage in any other way, but the process hurts andsometimes it's easier to just avoid the pain. I was ready to write about a week ago, but then our computer crashed. Good news is we didn't lose any pictures or videos. My free advise for the day... back up your digital pictures! Onething I realized this last week after a conversation with a teacher at school is that in my closing the caring bridge site many of you did lose pictures. Caring bridge was where you went to "see" Grace. So today I'll post a couple pictures with the blog so you can see and remember her whenever you want to.

Yesterday I got to work in tears. My friends at work seemed surprised at them. Confession time... anytime I get in the car alone I cry. So does Joe. There is something about being alone without distraction that makes a chink in the armor we so carefully try to keep on at all times. Armor of protection containing the hemorrhaging wound in our chest where Grace used to be. If I see you out and about we will exchange the customary "Hi... How are you's?", and I will say fine and smile. But that is not the truth. If I answer that question honestly the armor will crack and I will start to bleed. The tears that fall will have nothing holding them back and you will be left gaping in isle 3 wishing you had never asked the question. This hurt is deeper and more consuming than I ever could have imagined. Sometimes I get angry that the world just keeps rotating, that people keep rushing by in an effort to go... where? Shouldn't the world have stopped spinning the day Grace took her last breath? She's only been gone 115 days...

I wake up without her here. I go to bed after only being able to see the pictures containing her image. The house is missing her noise, her breath, her hugs, and laughter. I know she is having the time of her life... but I will never be the same.

Of course time moves forward and the world keeps spinning. My husband, and 2 beautiful girls will continue to need me to be present here and not give in to the all consuming hurt. I will laugh and find joy in things. My life is not over, and I will move forward. In sharing this today, I don't want anyone to feel like they have to tip toe around me to keep me from falling apart. Truth is (in a public setting anyway) the armor is usually pretty strong. I know several people who have lost children lately and I think it helps those who love them to understand a glimps of what they are going through... the profound loss they experience. It does not go away in 115 days, or 2 years or a lifetime. I will only be whole again when all of us are holding each other in a heavenly family hug. Until then I will be working hard on keeping my armor intact.

beyond painful memory

I feel a bubbling up of something in my heart, but can't quite check it's pulse. I'm yearning for more in life... can feel it reaching out with fury and wonder. Maybe these times of yearning are a response to whispers from heaven, messages to our very soul urging us to dig deeper and find a more fulfilling existence. To catch hold of God's purpose for each of our lives... that purpose which will leave a lasting impression on the world we will someday leave behind.

I want to create, to dance, to paint, to run, to hold, and to write...

The whispers have been speaking to me of seeking out God's beauty and his love in the world around me. To living each moment to it's fullest potential. To find joy in the everyday experiences we've been given. A friend who read my last blog entry (beyond busy), gave me a book called "one thousand gifts", in which the author describes her journey in learning a similar life lesson. I have a lot of the book left to go, but it is speaking to my heart and I feel God has brought me on the same road of discovery.

It's been 3 months since Grace died. Three months since I laid beside her in bed, cradling her head and kissing her cheek. Three months since I startled awake in her room. Knowing before I put my ear to her chest that she was gone even though she was still pink and warm. Three months of seeing her too still body lying on the bed, life and pink and warmth draining away beneath my hands. Each memory of it bringing an ache I cannot describe or even fully comprehend. Joe struggles with the memories of the final weeks of her life. Reliving the horror of watching her struggle to find breath, to suppress the torrential coughing. I remember, but for some reason don't live there. Instead, I am plagued by her final moment, although peaceful... the realization that she was lost to us. That our arms will be empty of her until we see each other again on the other side. That last day I was relieved that her struggle was over, but I can't get the picture of her on that bed... so still... so silent... out of my head.

The whispers of heaven to my soul... the yearnings of my heart for purpose... the seeking out of joy in each moment, so intermixed with grief and pain. I realize that when I think of death now, my first thought is of seeing Grace and having her introduce me to Jesus in the flesh. Fully alive, dancing and loud. The amazement of that moment gets me though any fear of one day dying. In the meantime, this earth journey continues as I look into the baby blues of Mae and Joy. The security found in Joe's arms. The peace I find in the art of a woman called Joy hanging on my living room wall. The beauty in the uniqueness of each snowflake creation falling outside the window today. The soul stirrings to look intentionally for the good and pure around me. So much to learn... but I am seeking and finding God's gifts of beauty beyond the pain on this journey.

Beyond busy

I didn't realize how much of life I have always taken for granted. People say things like stop and smell the roses... but come on. Who has that kind of time, energy or focus? Grace's life has been teaching me that each day on this earth is a gift given by God Almighty to be completely savored. We miss out on so much as we run through life, passing it all by.

I get inpatient with my kids. I have places to go... things to do! I tell them to get in the car and they wander past the door and gleefully jump in the snow, look at a rock stuck in the ice, or scrape picture patterns into the windows made by crystals. It makes me crazy (and late) but I am starting to realize they may be onto something...

I drove to Red Wing, MN to meet up with two of my closest friends from high school a few days ago. It was snowing (again), and at first I was annoyed and even a little worried. The roads were slippery and I was following map quest (not always a pleasant experience). I had the radio playing and about 45 minutes into the drive my soul started to settle into worship. It was then that I realized the snow falling around me was beautiful as the sun would peak out from time to time literally making the air and rolling hills around me glitter and dance with brilliant white sparkles. There were trees far off on the horizon separating earth and sky which otherwise would have appeared one in the same. The road would ebb and weave and because of the weather I rarely saw another car... I had the world to myself, the only one enjoying the show. I drove under a series of large oak trees leaning over the road. Each one a stark contrast to the brilliant white all around. Each branch an intricate design of lines and interwoven patterns. The trees seemed to be reaching out over the road instead of growing upward, as if they were trying to provide protection for those beneath. I hardly realized I was slowing down or looking up, and was surprised when my hand hit the ceiling of the car. I was so intrigued I had forgotten I was driving and actually expected to touch the branches far above me. The shock of the abrupt stop brought me back to reality and away from the trees and the tear that had formed in my eye. I laughed at myself but in the same moment thanked God for the reminder that each breath in this world He created can hold beauty if we chose to really see it.

Romans 1:19-20a "For since the beginning of the world, Gods invisible qualities- his eternal power and divine nature- have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made..." When is the last time you stopped to really smell a rose, see the reaching arms of a strong oak on a winter day, feel the warm sweetness of your child's kiss on your cheek, taste the tingling of a fresh strawberry on your tongue, or to hear an unseen bird sing you a song? There are fingerprints of God's love for us everywhere. Life means more when I realize I can chose to truly live fully in each moment. Join me in exploring the world with new eyes today.