One Word...SOAR

Have you ever worked on a jigsaw puzzle and found satisfaction as that last piece snaps into place? Or found yourself knee-deep in parts assembling a piece of furniture, when hours later it eventually looks somewhat like the picture on the box?  Perhaps you've planned an event that took weeks of tedious tasks and projects to result in one amazing night.

There's something pleasing when everything comes together.  Apart, it often makes no sense.

Sometimes such is life.  At times, you may not even realize the volume or impact until looking back.

Such has been my week, as I prayerfully pondered my "One Word for 2015."
A few years I began this practice, thanks to the world of blogging.  

My first word was Submit.  And through that next year I would learn the impact of Obedience, a life lesson that would take me all the way back to my wedding day when I ignorantly (and stubbornly) left out the word obey in my vows.

Last year, facing so many uncertainties with my future, after job loss, I chose Assured.  And, in so many ways, trusting Him, God provided Rest through life's storms.

Rolling those over in my mind a new word began to form.

S.O.A.R.

Submit. Obey. Assurance. Rest.

Funny how God shows you He has a plan in ALL things, huh?  In the midst of your year, the struggles, highs and lows, you often wonder what is on the other side.  Will it be worth it in the end?  Is there a purpose? 

Sometimes I question Him out loud and say, "What do you want me to see? do? learn? know?!"

In my impatience, I want answers and results NOW, not later.  Time again God shows me when I let go and just trust, He'll see me through.  And always, there are life lessons to be learned, wisdom gained and strength renewed.  

With the new year, a new daily Bible plan has begun.  One day this week found me upon a collection of some of my favorite scriptures, in Philippians 4.  Though I've read them many times, it didn't "come together" until that viewing.  The impact of how those individual scriptures have arrived for me over the years, on His timing, were now all combined.  A beautiful tapestry that showed my past and how far I've come.

Several scriptures reminded me of those I clung to after our wreck.  As I literally learned to walk again, Phil 4:13 became my battle cry.  Every time I had to drag myself out of the hospital bed, onto a walker, and down the hall, I meditated and repeated this verse.

The beginning of Philippians seemed so similar to another favorite, 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.  This was one of the first scriptures I recall actually writing out and clipping to my sun visor.  I was so grateful to be driving again, so much that I was filled with joy.  I kept it there to remind me there was always a reason to Rejoice!

Phil 4:6 became a soul soother in the days, weeks and months that followed Austin's death.  My human nature could not help but worry for Noah.  At that time, we didn't know why he passed and I was so fearful for every cough or sneeze that escaped our youngest.  For the first time in my life, storms scared me.  The flu terrified me.  Terrorists threatened me.  Anything that brought the possibility of losing my now only child.  

But the peace from 4:7 came, always, when needed most.  Peace in planning the funeral and standing through those days, in the darkness and depth of grief.  Peace I couldn't understand would wrap around us and carry us through.

As I've grown in my walk with God, 4:8-9 became easier.  I no longer counted on my own strength, but of His.  I learned what a gift it was to have others pray for me (4:10) and how prayers were said even when I didn't know or ask.  How those prayers have provided healing for us these past several years!

The lessons began in our wreck to be grateful and were most certainly grounded in losing our son.  After losing a job of 16 years, Phil 4:11-12 found new meaning again.  In all circumstances, for which we've experienced so many, we have learned the secret to contentment.  It's not what you have -or don't have that matters in the end.

Which brought me right back to the beginning.  That familiar scripture that is etched on a pillow, which hangs from my front door.  That holds my checkbook.  That hangs around the neck of our towering teen.  No matter what we may face in this life, we know we can endure with the strength of Christ!

And not just endure... but SOAR.  

I've decided this is my mantra for 2015.  

My last year of thirty-somethings.  

I feel it is the year to fly...

to SOAR.

Love One Another

Obviously I took a bit of vacation from blogging and am a few days late for Faithful Friday.  Sorry, friends!

We've enjoyed spending quality time together this past week, thanks to a tech free ruling most of the holiday.  In fact, I've lost my phone on more than one occasion because it's been on silent and not within arm's reach.  If I've missed your call, it wasn't on purpose!

Instead, we've spent hours cooking goodies in the kitchen, playing dominoes at the table, coloring by the fire, and of course, a little tech was allowed for viewing our favorite Christmas movies.  It's been a simply special week.

Though we did some visiting, it wasn't the hustle and bustle of years past and I appreciated the un-rushed pace, which allowed us to truly linger and relish time with family.  Even still, after the festivities, I looked forward to a few do-nothing days to rest and recharge before the cleanup and return to reality.  As you can probably guess, this didn't really happen.

The past two days have instead seen my hubby helping others, a trait of his I love and admire most. He truly is one of the most selfless, giving people I know.

Without hesitation, he offered up his last vacation day to spend it fixing something in need of repair for another.  Not one to sit around for hours, he prefers to be busy and if it is helping someone, that makes it even better.  He came home that night, cold and sore, but never offered a complaint, only a slower moving and deeper sleeping body than normal.

The next day was no different, when after two separate phone calls, he slipped out of his comfy pjs and traded a quiet, lazy day at home to be out and about giving aid to others.

And what makes me love him even more is that he'd never mention it to anyone, wouldn't expect even a thank you, and would probably "fuss" at me for even writing about it.

God fit us together much like a puzzle.  Areas I lack, Tim excels and vice-versa.  Though I'm empathetic and would hope a loving person, it isn't often I go out of my way to help someone, especially if it requires a lot of physical activity.  Yet Tim is just the opposite.  Explains why firefighting came so naturally to him all those years.

It's no surprise that his latest business venture also has helping others as the common theme.  My prayer is that he'll see success in the next year.  Not because he's looking to gain financially, but because I know it truly gives him joy to help someone.  And if my husband is happy then I'm most definitely filled with joy.

Faithful Friday: JOY

Joy wasn't something I thought we'd ever feel in December again, much less the other 11 months of the year.  When our world turned upside down, after the loss of our son, joy seemed impossible.

I remember seeing the scripture, "Joy comes in the morning," shortly after Austin's death and almost feeling anger at the thought.  In the depths of our grief, the idea of ever waking up to joy wasn't something I could comprehend.

But great loss doesn't always have to be the reason joy escapes our lives.  Sometimes, some seasons, joy just seems hard to find.  For whatever the reason, morning after morning, joy doesn't come.

As the days grow shorter and colder, finances tighter, and stresses increase, depression can peak.  If this sounds more like what you are facing now, friend, my prayer is that joy will find you this Christmas.

For me, it did come in the morning, just not right away.  Nearly two years after, in the wee hours, well before the sun arose, a stirring brought me out of bed.  God nudged me to the computer to write, my release, and told me I had to choose joy.

This blog, my life's challenge, began.

Has it always been easy?  Absolutely not.
Are there days joy is hard to find.  Sometimes.
Did it erase all the pain and hurt?  No, but it helped to soothe it.

With each day, each effort to search is out, the challenge became less and less.
Until eventually, joy was just there.  Here.  Everywhere.

Through this journey I've learned that joy is not the same as happiness.  Something doesn't need to happen, for joy to be.  It is more an internal radiance that, no matter what is going on around you, still exists.

"Joy seems to me a step beyond happiness -- happiness is a sort of atmosphere you can live in sometimes, 

when you're lucky. Joy is a light that fills you with hope and faith and love."

Saint Adela Rogers Johns

Joy comes from gratitude.  Having a thankful heart increases joy.  It is a focus on what you have, not what you haven't.  There's a statistic that says those who track their gratitude are happier by 25%. More joy just from being thankful?  Yes, please.

And true joy, for me, comes from God.

A fruit of the spirit.  Joy is something that stirs and grows within us from Him.  As we walk closer with Him, our joy tank overflows and spills out to those around us.  Joy shared is joy doubled!

My challenge to you for the rest of this season, is to seek JOY.

Search it out.

Find it in the small, every day moments.

Live in gratitude.  Count your blessings.

Connect with God.  Pray.

And soon, one morning, joy will come.

Faithful Friday: Peace

Last Sunday, the candle of Peace was lit at our church.  Instantly, I was taken back to my greatest experience with true peace...the kind that only comes from God.

Peace from Above 

- originally posted on austinslegacy.blogspot.com

The night before Austin's visitation, I prayed for peace. Our emotions were so fragile and raw, I didn't know IF or How we would get through the services.

A simple phone call would set off a roller coaster of emotions, so much so that we gave our phones to family members to just take messages. We didn't want to seem rude but it was just too hard to live the horror over and over again with each new voice on the line.

We managed, for the most part, to do fairly well when visitors came to the house. I think it was a mixture of shock and the comforting distraction of being at home. I was worried though how we would handle the hours and overwhelming emotions that lay before us that week.

So I did the only thing I knew to do.  I prayed for peace.

At that point in our loss, we had no answers. When you lose a child, even with answers, it never seems right - or fair - or something you feel can completely wrap your mind around. It just doesn't make sense, life happens in a sequence and this type of loss is unexpected, unnatural. I didn't understand, certainly didn't agree, but I knew we needed God's help to get through.

Without realizing it, I began to pray from a scripture. Prior to that point, I don't know if I really even knew the true meaning. It wasn't until later, when I saw the scripture again in print, that I remembered it being my heart's prayer.

It always amazes me when the scriptures you've read over time come out in true form. That you not only understand them - but you live them.

People commented on how calm I was during visitation and at the funeral. I'm sure some thought I was medicated to get through it. But I didn't take so much as a Tylenol through that time - or since. Me "getting through" that difficult time was all God.

He gave me peace.

And it was a complete peace. I felt it wash over me as we entered the funeral home. It was incomprehensible. I still hurt and grieved for my child but I had peace. I knew where Austin was, I knew he was safe and happy and healthy and watching over us. It was a peace that passed all understanding. It was amazing and God is the only explanation.

That peace helped me get through the most difficult journey of burying my child. It is a journey no parent should ever have to make. The peace helped my family as well. They all looked to me and my emotions that week; I set the mood. My peace (His peace) carried over to them.

It didn't stay forever. There were deep, dark days of painful grieving. There still is sometimes. But that peace was there when I needed it most. For two complete days I had a glimpse of what Heaven must be like. That peace was amazing - there really are no words. That peace still helps me because I know someday we'll all have that,,,forever.

"Then God will give you peace, a peace which is too wonderful to understand. 

That peace will keep your hearts and minds safe as you trust in Christ Jesus."

When December is Hard

Maybe you've faced the start of Advent with more of a feeling of hopelessness than hopefulness.
Perhaps the joy of the season just feels a little too overwhelming.  And the smiles, scents, and sounds of the holidays are more than you can muster.

It's ok.  I have been there, friend.

Sometimes, like a few days ago, I am there still.

We "made it through" the 29th better than I expected.  When Sunday came and the fog rolled in, it actually took me by surprise.  Joy was nowhere to be found and it took everything I had in me just to get to church.

Sometimes grief hits us like that.  One step forward...twelve steps back.

I expected it to come on the anniversary of our loss, but it didn't.  In fact, it was a beautiful day filled with family and giving back, of remembering him.  There were many signs from Austin letting us know he was there, which was a comfort, as well as the prayers and texts sent from those who haven't forgotten.

When night came, there was a peace that surrounded us and we went to sleep without the horrible flashbacks and painful memories.  Tim even grabbed my hand before we drifted off and said,
"It's been a good day."

Six years of healing will do that, or so I thought.

When morning dawned, it was the only brightness to be found.  There was a hurt I could not shake. Tears kept welling up in my eyes, for no reason other than to blind and sting.   Instead of the message bringing me comfort at church, it brought more pain, as our pastor shared a message of hope.  Of miracles and prayers of healing.

For a mother who prayed fervently for her son to survive one November night, it was difficult to hear.  Not this weekend.  Not now...

Evil hissed in my ear and brought back the flashes of my son that didn't come back.  Evil told me my prayer wasn't heard.

Though we had family activities and busyness the rest of day, the heavy coat of grief would not let go.  It made the process of putting up the Christmas tree, our final activity with Austin, even harder to bear.

The next two days played quite the same.  Murphy's law came for an unwelcome visit and lingered.  Monday night found me sobbing in the laundry room, after everyone had gone to bed.  Though it was hateful words said from an uncaring soul that broke my spirit, having an already broken heart allowed for the easy fall.  That night made up for Saturday's lack of tears, I guess - and then some.

This is how I welcomed December.  No tinsel and merriment, only heartache and grief.  And for a moment, I feared this is just how this month would be.  That this Christmas would somehow disappear into darkness.

But as God often does, He found ways to send me hope each day I found despair.  Sunday, a ding on my phone brought a hug to my heart, in an unexpected message from someone who found a RAK.  Their daughter holding a toy from the reverse shopping spree and filled with joy.  Monday random check-ins from family at just the needed moment and more messages of RAK recipients.  In all the years we've done the reverse shopping, we've never heard back from those who found them.  I guess God knew we needed it this year.

And Tuesday, exhausted and spent from the hours crying the night before, I entered the house to find a package on the doorstep.  Hand-addressed to me.  Priority packaging.  Whatever could it be?  Though the gift was visible, the card was the first thing I grabbed, although tears (happy now) soon made it impossible to read.

A friend, remembering Austin and knowing my love for butterflies, sent a beautiful afghan.  It arrived at the perfect moment.  I dropped everything, went to the couch, sat under the lights of the Christmas tree and wrapped myself in love.

This afternoon, home early, found me on repeat.  Sitting in the quiet of the living room, the soft glow of the season all around me, I realized joy had returned.

In truth, it never left because He never leaves us.  Grief can cast a shadow but The light will always find a way to overcome darkness.  And for that I will forever praise Him!

So, if you're facing loss this season, I'm lifting up a special prayer for you.  Whether it has been five minutes or fifteen years, I know grief knows no timeline.  There is no magic ending, no pill, or therapy, or neat little bow to wrap it up and put on a shelf.  If I've learned anything in this walk, is it to be gentle with yourself, to allow tears to fall when they come, and to let God hold you through the journey.  He will bring you to joy again.  I pray it finds you this Christmas.

Faithful Friday: Thanksgiving

Happy belated Thanksgiving!  Knowing the week I would have, this post was started early, something I don't normally do.  I put the finishing details on it this morning, complete with coffee and PJs.  My hope is that your bellies and hearts are full by the time this reaches you.

Our Thanksgiving day was spent serving, a fairly new tradition our family started a few years ago.  As usual, God had great things in store for this year's event.  In the midst of the organized chaos, He never ceases to amaze me how it works out perfectly.  As the drivers were dispatched, trays of turkey and dressing in hand, calls began to come in.  "Where is this street? GPS can't find it."  And unexpectedly, "I have the same list as someone else!"  -oops.

The best message though came from a driver who shared that at his last stop, the lady answered and told him someone had already been there.  (Not the duplicate list mentioned above!)  As he was about to leave, she shared that her two sons were on their way.  As it so happened, two meals were what he had left.  I double checked all the routes and the lady was only listed on his.  Most certainly a God thing!

Thanksgiving had been a particularly difficult holiday for us, as it was our last one with Austin.  As such, there's a lot of painful - and bittersweet emotions around this day.  The first Thanksgiving without him I just wanted to ignore and avoid.  It was a welcome change and a perfect fit for a family focused on RAKs in the month of November to be a part of delivering meals to those in need.

Of course, with this new tradition, I no longer cook a big meal to have family over.  Instead, we eat lunch with the volunteers that day.  In some ways I miss it, but knowing how special our last get together was, which happens to also be my most popular post, gives me comfort in how it ended.  Time changes things and God has a purpose in it all.

The week will still be peppered with family, beginning with a Wednesday meal at my niece's (so strange to see her all grown up and hosting!), a visit at my grandma's, and ending with our own little turkey meal at home.  A new-to-Tina activity will be a night at the Shriner's circus, thanks to this girl winning tickets on the radio.  We haven't gone since the boys were little.  She is super excited and I'm thrilled to share this experience with her.  An added bonus is that my mom, sister and her littles will be joining us.

Folded in will be lots of Random Acts of Kindness as we wind down to Austin's Heaven-anniversary. We've done RAKs throughout this month but tomorrow will be the big day, complete with our favorite tradition, the Reverse Shopping Spree and a new one, backpacks for foster kids.  

Though we may do better year to year, prayers are still appreciated.  Keeping our minds busy doesn't take away the tug in our hearts.

Truly though, when I think back to those first holidays after losing him, it is amazing the healing that God has brought to our family.  I remember the broken, being lost in the darkness and depth of grief, and wondering if the pieces would ever come together again.

We will never have a day that we don't miss Austin but the pain, most days, does ease over the years.  And for that I am ever-thankful to my God.  He has returned JOY to us, even in the midst of our loss.

Thankful Thursday: Hodgepodge of Help

In this season of thanksgiving, this spirit of helping others in need, I bring you a hodgepodge of helping opportunities.  My collection this week may seem random but all serve a purpose.


First of all an update to Habitat.  I hear they are still in need of Saturday workers.  Below is a message from the Baptist association:

"If you would like to help with this project I encourage you to call Steve Flener and 270-256-6950 for more information.  The home is located at 728 2nd Street in Beaver Dam and they usually begin work around 9am in the morning.  This is a great opportunity to help out one of our own! So even if you only have a couple of hours on Saturday please consider helping out.  Every volunteer hour that is recorded helps the Mason's out tremendously!"

A "hug from above" update on the food pantry, in that I heard they helped 232 people last week.

Now, to other needs around us.

"Betty's Buddies" is a beautiful new program, formed in honor of a wife battling Alzheimer's.  She is currently receiving care in a nursing home and her husband noticed how many others never receive visits.  BB is a "mentoring" type program where people can sign up to be a buddy and just simply visit someone, to make them smile and give extra company.  Right now, they are doing a fruit basket campaign by partnering with IGA to provide for every nursing home member in the county.  You can give a donation as small as $5 to help ensure someone gets a smile this season.

Thanksgiving is 1 week away.  Do you know someone who is home bound and will not have a meal this holiday, perhaps a neighbor or someone you know in need?  If so, please contact me personally, as our church delivers meal on this day throughout Ohio county.

Or, perhaps you could use this as your RAK opportunity and invite them over to your home?  Or stop in and surprise them with a plate and a quick visit.

With the holidays in mind, do you know someone who is newly grieving this season?  I just had a comment from a mom who lost her dear daughter just four weeks ago.  How I remember the firsts after losing Austin.  My heart goes out to those especially who see the anniversary of their loss around the holidays.

If someone comes to your mind now, consider that as a God-nudge asking you to do something for them this season.  It doesn't have to be big.  Maybe a note on their door or in the mailbox.  Everyone gets Christmas cards but how many get a card around Thanksgiving?  Or, as you are packaging up leftovers from your dinner this week, maybe you could deliver it to a new widower, who finds it hard to eat alone this season.  The next time it snows, maybe you could surprise them with a salted and cleaned driveway?  A simple act of kindness to someone grieving can go so far to their health, happiness and healing.

"No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted." 

Thankful Thursday: There's No Place Like Home

Home is my safety net.  The ultimate comfort zone.  A haven at the end of a long day.
Where my family is gathered will always be Home.

Through our married lives, we've lived in several houses.  From tiny apartments to country rentals to life in the suburbs.  Owning a home was a dream of ours but one that didn't come right away.  And while it wasn't my dream home, I'm grateful the wish was fulfilled.

Ours is a simple home.  No bells or whistles and in great need of refreshment and repairs but it has a roof and four walls to contain the love within.  And though it be modest, I know we are blessed to have this home, even with dated wallpaper and tears in the carpet.  Because so many do not.

Working with families who can't find adequate housing, I know the struggles.  Everyone just wants a place to call their own.  A home.

One organization helping to meet this need is Habitat for Humanity.  Our county is blessed to have an active chapter.  In fact, the ninth house is currently being built - just a hop and skip from where we live.

There are many ways you could volunteer to help with the current or future projects.  From money to sweat equity, your donations can make a difference.  They are about 100 tickets shy of completing the gun raffle.  Another need I've heard they have is feeding the volunteers while they are at the job site.  Lots of potential RAKs with this project!

For some, the thought of owning a home isn't even on their dream radar.  Just having a place to lay their head is.  Homelessness happens, even in small rural counties like ours.  But a homeless shelter is in the works.

Actually as this posts, there is a planning and zoning meeting tonight concerning the shelter.  Pray that votes go in the shelter's favor for them to move to the next step.

How else can you help?

A big need is money.  The next lofty purchase for the shelter is a fire alarm system so watch for upcoming fundraisers and support them, or donate direct below.

Checks can be made to:  Promise Home

1081 Rochester Rd, Beaver Dam

Or take to Commonwealth Community Bank. 

Other donations or questions call Angela Porter Stewart at 2561504

Supplies are also helpful.  Here is a list of their greatest needs.  They do not have to be brand new but should be gently used.  Desks and baby beds have been filled.

Promise Home is a 501(c)3 organization so donations are tax deductible

If you're reading this from the comfort of your home, consider doing a RAK or helping someone in need of housing today.

Thankful Thursday: RAK Kickoff

Faithful Fridays will be temporarily on hold for the month of November, in order to bring you something timely for the Thanksgiving season.

November is a bittersweet month for us, a time of remembering what a special gift we had in Austin, but also in reliving the horror of losing him.  As the first anniversary of his death rolled around, something difficult to celebrate even knowing where he was, our family decided to do random acts of kindness in his memory.

The next year it grew as friends and family jumped in to remember our son.  Every RAK done for Austin is a hug for our souls!

I've pondered this year on how to roll out Random Acts for Austin and been in prayer for needs in the area.  Between last night's scene and an inspiring story on tv this morning, Thankful Thursday was born.

Each week, I'll bring ideas for our area of things your family could join in on in memory of Austin.  Now, I realize many of my readers are across this earth, so just use them as a springboard of inspiration.  There are always needs all around us, we just have to use God's eyes sometimes to see them.

A new activity our family plans to do this month is to fill a backpack for a foster child.  We happened upon this beautiful idea on social media and it instantly spoke to me.  You see, for those who are new to this blog, our niece unexpectedly landed on our doorstep 3 1/2 years ago, with only the clothes on her back.  Even though she was family, it was a difficult adjustment period and just stocking her with clothes and basics was quite an undertaking.  Thankfully God, friends and family helped us through.  Now, she has so much "stuff" we periodically have to purge and donate!

But I remember the look on her face, the shock and loneliness, even though she came to family she knew and loved.  I can only imagine the feelings foster children go through, as they are planted in a new place with unfamiliar faces and surroundings.  Most have nothing of their own to go with them.  These backpacks are a wonderful idea and I can't wait to go shopping with our kids to build some hope and love for two teens.  The link is above for Katie's project.  If you aren't in the area, you can donate to her cause.
**(when I went to copy her link, 123 shares was the first thing I saw.  Austin wink!)

Last night, on my way home from work, I passed a location that I drive by multiple times a day.  With the time change, it was already very dark but the lights from this building shone on the line of people waiting to get inside.  It was our local food bank.  My heart broke in that moment and I found myself praying for the people in line the rest of my drive home.

We've never gone without food in our life.  Growing up, I remember "tough times" and we poke fun of my mom for the month of dumplins we ate one year, but looking back I'm tearful and grateful for her dedication to ensure that no matter how tight finances were, she always had a hot meal on the table as we came home from school.

My children have never known hunger and for that I'm ever-thankful.  Yes, there have been rough moments, due to job losses and tragedies, but God has always provided.  Some meals the kids might not have listed as their favorite, but their bellies were full when they fell asleep.

Groceries are expensive!  Our own household has recently had a tightening, a readjusting of meal planning, in an effort to trim the budget.  But I cannot imagine knowing I didn't have anything to feed my family.

Below is the contact info for our local pantry.  I have a message in for what needs they currently have and will update this post when they call.  Search out your local pantry this month and consider donating to help those in need.

If you donate or do a RAK this week, post a comment and let me know. I have no doubt Austin is smiling down on all that will be done!  Thank you for giving of your resources!

Ohio County Food Pantry 

boxed, canned, perishable goods to the low income citizens 
1220 S. Main Street, Hartford, KY 42347
Telephone - (270) 775-5913

**Post Update:

The Food Pantry serves over 600 families a month in Ohio County!

So they are ALWAYS in need of food or money to purchase it.

If you're interested in donating, Pat (number above) will arrange for pick-up or delivery.

Thank you!!

Grief to Thankfulness

During October I participated in a photo challenge.  30 days of capturing the grief of child loss. Though it is something I live with daily, it was fascinating to see it visually.  To focus on a topic and a picture to describe my feelings each day.  Purposefully, I didn't really look ahead or think about what I would write each day; instead, I lived in the moment.  Capturing photos from where I stood in the day.  Where grief found me at various points of the day.

Goosebump hug - "23"1 posts on this last day

As I looked back this morning through my collection, a collage of grief, 

something stood out.  

Healing.  Truth.  Joy.  Life.  

For so long, in the darkness of grief, 

I didn't know that any of those would ever exist again.  

Below is Day 29.

Day 29: Reflect #captureyourgrief
All day I've thought "how can I sum up the past six years of #childloss in an Instagram post?" Impossible.
But driving home I saw this tree and turned around to capture a photo. It spoke to me about grief.
Ugly/beautiful. Gradual. Slow, like that of the seasons. Change. Death and yet, life.
After taking it, I looked down and noticed the arrow. Moving forward. Looking ahead. Hope. #joy. And it's all a cycle. Yes, if a paragraph can sum it up this tree inspired that reflection... #whathealsyourheart

The project actually went through 31 days.  The final day we were to capture a sunset.  Day 31, Halloween, found me knee deep in trunks of candy.  Organized chaos.  The scent of chocolate.  An array of costumed kiddos.  And sleet.  Seriously, sub-zero temperatures and just as we began to set up - freezing rain!  We pushed through and, although very chilly, it was a beautiful night.  Even in the weather, over 700 kiddos came through within an hour and a half.

Needless to say, I didn't have an opportunity to capture a sunset.  (Or post for Faithful Friday.) Honestly, I don't know if a sunset was even visible.  But here are some photos of my last night of October.  A sweet ending.

A panoramic view of the start of the night - Trunk or Treat @ EHBC

Our trunk - Monopoly
and the cutest "Mr & Mrs Moneybags" ever!

Now...we are in November.  A bittersweet month.  

A month of memories, our lasts with Austin.  Remembering the pain, the nightmare.  But also, absorbing the gratitude.  A month of thankfulness.  

For what was... and what is...and what will be.

Faithful Friday: Forgive

Day 24: FORGIVENESS. Today let us open our hearts to forgiveness. Even if it is just a conversation that we have with ourselves. You may not be ready to forgive someone today and that is okay.  True forgiveness can never be forced so if you are not feeling it – then you are not feeling it! But we can still plant a seed. Forgiving someone may take years. It is a process. When you forgive another person you are not condoning their actions, you are just releasing yourself from them. When you hold onto anger or resentment for too long, you only end up hurting yourself. It is an easy thing to know in your heart that forgiveness will help you but to actually feel that is a whole other story. 

What are your thoughts on forgiveness? 

Have your had to forgive someone in your life? How did you do it? 

How did you let go of resentment? 

- - - - - - - -

Two years ago I wrote about this topic, specific to forgiveness in child loss.  Reading it again, I had to give praise to God for where I am now.  In 2012, I was still hurting, healing, processing the forgiveness needed to move on.  Now, I can't even pinpoint who or what that post was about.  And I know, without a doubt, any forgiveness I gave came from and through Him.  What a wonderful feeling when your soul is free from anger and resentment!

Today, I thought I'd focus on forgiveness of self in child loss.  Guilt is common with losing a child, no matter the circumstance.  As parents, we feel a responsibility to keep our children safe, happy, healthy.  When that goes wrong and life turns upside down, we blame ourselves.

For so long, it seemed, that night was on auto play in my mind.  I relived the moments leading up to Austin's death over and over and over.  Was there anything I could have done to prevent this?  Should I have made him get his flu shot that year?  What if I'd said no to the bike ride?  Should I have postponed his tonsillectomy, even though he'd begged to wait until after Thanksgiving so he could taste all the family's traditional foods. Why didn't I help Tim with CPR instead of sitting there sobbing, screaming, holding Austin's hand?

Would any of it have mattered?  Would anything turn back time and return my son?  

Months later, when we discovered the true cause of his death and heard the medical examiner assure us there was nothing before-during-or after that would've changed things, it helped.  Somewhat.  A piece of the guilt we carried went away.  But, I just replaced it with other reasons to not forgive myself.

Did Austin know we loved him?  Should I have not shopped on Black Friday and spent the day with the boys instead?  How many times that last day did I hug him?  Was I good mom?  Did he realize how much he meant to us?  to everyone?

And even now, six years later, I still find myself wishing, wondering.  I still have moments of guilt and areas I haven't forgiven.

I look at his little brother, now the same age but stockier, taller.  He fills up the queen size bed in his room and my heart cringes, remembering that Austin was still in a twin.  He'd grown faster than we'd ever imagined and the bed seemed to shrink beneath him overnight.  Though we'd talked about buying a bigger size, we hadn't yet.  And I think about whether his nights were uncomfortable, or if his back hurt in the mornings from being cramped in a small bed.  He never said.

Or that I never bought him the Iphone he wanted.  Perhaps I didn't spoil him enough.  Guilt has caused me to do so more with his brother, I know.  We never went on that trip to New York.  Or to a concert to rock out to AC/DC.

Your mind is continually filled with coulda/shoulda/wouldas when you've lost a child.  You wonder if you made the most of the time you had with them?  If it - or you - were enough...

There's no cookie cutter response to forgiveness, whether it is to yourself or others.  Each situation, every hurt or wrong or regret comes down to time and prayer.  Time helps anger and guilt fade.  Prayer erases the pain and replaces it with healing.

Thankful I'm not where I once was, hopeful I'll continue to grow, and laying it at His feet to help me.

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7

Faithful Friday: Trust God

When I think back to last October and all the change that has come, I'm amazed.  Life isn't anything like I'd expected or planned it to be.  But still, life is good.

Last fall was a major life change for me, leaving a job after 16 years.  For the first time ever, I was unemployed.  And instead of providing, helping, doing, I was on the other side.  It was a scary, uncertain future.

For a girl with a slight case of OCD, and one who surely likes to be in charge and control, not having a job was like setting out in a boat on choppy waters.  For awhile, I didn't know where I'd end up and it felt like I'd been abandoned.

Our finances took a hefty ding and, at times, I felt like God let us down.  Hadn't we suffered enough on this earth?  Why must we struggle again so soon?  How were we ever going to manage?

Eventually, with my hubby's loving reminders, I let go and just trusted God.

The past year hasn't been easy.  There have been huge adjustments, changes, of figuring out who I am in a new career, and a shifting of priorities. Not that we ever lived extravagantly, but we lived in excess.  Now, we've learned that less really is more.  There's a tremendous difference in needs versus want, something the kids have been somewhat less eager to learn at times.

“Too many people spend money they haven’t earned, 

to buy things they don’t want, to impress people they don’t like.” 
~ Will Rogers

Change has helped us to refocus and reminded that God is in control.

What's been wonderful is that somehow, every need, every time, God has provided, often to the penny.  There's been unexpected blessings and many lessons along the way.  What we know, no matter what, is that we can trust God with our tomorrows - and our todays.

We may not have a lot but we certainly have all we need.  

Faithful Friday: Support in Childloss

If you've been following me on Instagram or elsewhere, you know I'm participating in the #captureyourgrief project.

Day 10, today, is Support.

That's a tough one for me to verbalize because, in many ways, I've felt alone while navigating my way through child loss.  One of the most popular posts I've written about support, or rather lack of, can be found here at Still Standing magazine.

What I know six years later, is the majority of people just don't know how to begin to support someone who has lost a child.  Because, for the lucky ones, they've never experienced the horror.  To step out into that possibility is just too scary.  So most just avoid it.

Where I found the most support {from people} was from those who had already walked this dark path.  Even from those first days at the funeral home, I recall every heart-aching face that came out to relive their nightmare, just so they could hug us and let us know they were here.  The pain was tangible, even if their loss was years prior.  With so much truth in their faces, we knew what we were up against, seeing their lingering grief; but we were grateful for their help and guidance.

Where I found the most support {online} was through child loss sites.  Message boards, where I could pour my heart to strangers who knew my pain, helped me cope in the middle of the night. Websites specific to child loss gave me a connection, an understanding that others had experienced what I was going through, hope to see how other's had survived. Reading and researching grief, watching for the signs of depression in my family, how to help my marriage and prevent the staggering divorce rates shown on Google, and what to say to my little boy grieving his brother helped me process, plan and prepare.  I was in charge online and could choose when and where to go, what to say, and when to shut down.  Online, it has been easy to share about Austin and our child loss journey online, but face to face, my emotions usually fail me.  Online, I have been able to bare my soul and heal with each typed word.  Along the way, I've been blessed to gain many new friends, members of a club no parent wants to join but united just the same.  One such friend has about the best collection of what to do for grieving parents I've ever read.

Where I found the most support {from community} has been our current church home.  We wouldn't find this home until we were 3 1/2 years out from losing Austin, but the timing of when we found them was impeccable.  We joined our church in what would've been Austin's graduation year from high school.  So many milestones and missed moments, heartaches we could have never anticipated, and pains, like a wound, ripped open again, led us to covet the many prayers freely given for us by our church family.  It touched our hearts even more that we were so new but they welcomed us with open arms and treated us as if we'd been members for years.  The church typically gave all students a gift card the Sunday after graduation.  For Austin, they made a donation to his scholarship fund.  That first year, we also joined a Lifegroup, something foreign to us, but that close-knit group of friends surrounded our family with love and support in a time we needed a sense of belonging most.

But how I've survived most, where I've found the biggest comfort, solace, peace, and support is {spiritually}.  Even when I pushed Him away, God was there to hold me through the darkest pain my soul would ever know.  He has been my guide, the place where I find rest and compassion, where I could pour out anger, heartache, questions, and tears, yet still, find kindness and understanding.  He carried me when I couldn't take the next step, held my hand as I braved another day, and nudged me to help others facing this loss as I began to heal.  I cannot imagine my life, especially these past six years, without Him by my side.

Faithful Friday: Unanswered Prayers

For six years I've struggled with one very personal factor of losing my son.

God said no to my deepest, most heartfelt prayer.

While I would never wish this pain on even the most evil in this world, in the early days of grief, when I heard of other's answered prayers - of healing, of miracles, a part of me would twinge. Sometimes, if I'm honest, a part of me still does.

Why not my son?  Why not my prayer?

It's the question that's crept doubt into my faith.  Why I felt anger brimming on the surface, even from the ER that first horrible night.  What turned me away from church for awhile.  And why I tried to push God out of my life.

I couldn't understand how He could let my husband and me survive a motorcycle wreck, but take my son while simply riding his bike around our neighborhood.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Our wreck had changed me.  It was a stop sign for our life.  During the days that followed, I appreciated moments more.  Sunrises and sunsets had meaning.  I treasured every moment with my family because I knew how precious time was.

And I shared it with others, frequently giving praises to God for saving us.  Helping others see the special in every day, was what I thought my purpose was.

So when God pulled the rug from under my fairy tale dreams, nothing made sense anymore.

What more could he want from me?  How much more did I need to suffer on this earth?  And how could I ever share the good news when so much good just left this earth?

I know now our wreck wasn't just a stop sign - it was a gift.  Those three years after were the closest our family ever was.  We made the most of every single day, packed more "I Love Yous" than ever before, and created sweet memories, not realizing a countdown was ticking away in Heaven.

Somehow we came through the darkness that comes with child loss.  Eventually, slowly, joy returned.  And my relationship with God strengthened beyond measure.

Yet, in the background hissing now and then was the reminder that God didn't hear my prayer.

At least not the one that mattered most.

To this day it is something I've fought with, what I've internally pushed aside during moments that required my faith to stretch and reach.  Though I tried to ignore it, that question was always lingering.

And then, in His perfect timing, He sent me a message that changed it all.

Last Sunday, our pastor spoke the words God knew I needed to hear.....

Even Jesus had unanswered prayers.

Wow.  That single sentence weighed heavy, bounced around the corners of my mind, and settled into my heart.

In the Garden, on the evening before Jesus would die for my sins, he prayed his deepest, most earnest prayer to His Father.  But even in his distress and agony, God couldn't answer His prayer.  His own son's.

Even knowing the pain it would cause, there was a purpose and a plan.

 Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, 

and he said to them,
“Sit here while I go over there and pray.”
He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, 

and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. 

Then he said to them,
“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. 

Stay here and keep watch with me.”
Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed,
“My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. 

Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

Faithful Friday: I'll Take You There

Oh, what a glorious day!

I've had the privilege to be out and about every day this week.  The drives have been absolutely beautiful.  Each time I walk outside, my lungs deeply inhale, almost effortlessly, because my entire body and soul just wants to soak. up. every. ounce. of Autumn.

Today, has been a picture perfect fall day.  

Sunshine with a cool breeze.  

Blue skies and fluffy clouds contrasted against amber fields.  

Tunes on the radio singing, "I'll take you there."  

And I was grateful for where I was in each moment of this day.

My eyes yearned to look on both sides instead of the road ahead of me, 

each view more wonderful than the last.  

Perhaps, because of  my busy week, the peacefulness of outdoors called to me.

But, there's healing, I think, 

when you're surrounded by God's beautiful landscapes.

With my head hanging out the window, soaking up all splendor of fall, I lifted up praise to Him for creating such views.  As my eyes would scan the patchwork terrain, my thoughts would wonder how majestic Heaven must be.  

If earth is even a fraction of what awaits....

I know a place, ya'all

(I'll take you there)

Ain't nobody cryin'

(I'll take you there)

Ain't nobody worried

(I'll take you there)

Let me take you there

(I'll take you there)

You Don't Need to Go to Church

My grandfather was a preacher so I grew up in church.  But, throughout the course of my life, I've spent more time outside of church than in it.

At many times, I pondered the importance of going.  Sometimes it felt like the "right thing to do" but it seemed like I was just going to get an attendance star.  Sometimes I went long enough to "get my Jesus fix" but stalled when life got hectic.  Sometimes I left church altogether because of something somebody did or said, or because of major transitions.

And the two points of my life when my walk with God got the closest were after tragedy and loss - when I wasn't going to church.

Often I thought, was church really necessary?

What I knew was...

• You don't need to go to church to believe in God.
• You don't have to be in church to worship Him.
• Church (and God) had let me down.

So wasn't it just easier to be a Christian on my terms?
Did I really need to go to church regularly?

To get you to the end, I should start at the beginning.....

FAITHFUL FRIDAY 

Growing up, for the most part, I only went to church when visiting my grandparents.  It wasn't something we did in my own childhood home.  My Mom didn't have a vehicle and the only church within walking distance wasn't our denomination.

Grandpa's influence led me to be saved at the age 9 when, on wobbly knees, I walked toward his smiling face and warm arms one Sunday.  Yet, even with that foundation, once married, I wasn't consistent in church attendance.  Major holidays and the occasional surprise visits were about the only time I went.  I believed in God but felt regular church attendance was something older people (like my grandparents) did.

When we learned that we were expecting, my husband and I talked of hopes and dreams for the future.  One included raising our children in church.  I'm not sure why that was a value, given that neither of us were brought up going but I'm glad for the still small voice that spurred us that direction.

Though we shared the Bible stories with our oldest from the start, we didn't make regular rounds of finding a church home until he was three or four years old.  And along the way, many churches failed us.  Some had too many restrictions and requirements.  One told us our son made too much noise.  Others expected service too soon, before we really even understood what being a Christian even meant.  For awhile, we just quit trying.

After the birth of our second child, six years into our marriage, we found our first church home.  Both my boys would end up baptized there.  But we were seasonal attendees at best, going for the kids and when it was convenient to our schedule.  And then, due to tragedy, we were forced into church limbo.

Given that we never consistently attended, it seemed strange to me that I struggled with our absence.  In our walk with grief from child loss, my relationship with God was a roller coaster.  I was angry, scared, and confused, but I still clung to what faith I had.  No matter how much I pushed God away, I could feel that He never let go.

There was something that kept pulling, kept nudging me to go and find a church home. Stubbornly, as I often do, I dug my heels in and didn't listen.  At least not right away.

Now, when think back on the blessings that our current church home has given us, I sometimes wonder what we missed out on during that time in limbo.  I only thought I was growing in my relationship with Him.

Because, in reality, my walk with God dramatically changed once I fully committed my time to Him.

• You don't need to go to church to believe in God but you need to go to fully know Him because He+We=Church.  (1 Corinthians 12:12)

• You don't have to be in church to worship Him but fellowship and discipleship with other believers is true worship.  (Romans 12:5)

• Church (and God) had let me down but they also picked me up again.  and again. and again.    (1 Thessalonians 5:11)  And in truth, I'd let them down too.

When we quit asking, "Are we going to church today?" and just committed ourselves to go, amazing change began in our lives.

We had other believers helping us be accountable, in love not judgement.  We've had tremendous growth in our knowledge of the Word because we're in it on a regular basis, not just when we're in a pew.    We have others to share our struggles and joys and to pray alongside us.  As a family, our prayer life has grown.  We've learned what service to others is really all about and have found a place for everyone to use their talents and gifts.  Our family has become closer and stronger.  We've changed - for the better - more since being consistent members than I feel we did our whole lifetimes before.

Maybe you don't need to go to church.
But once you fully get to know God, you should want to.

For me, it was worth the journey, the struggles, and every twist and turn this Christian walk took me to get where we are today.  I can't imagine my life without the Church.  My hope for you, friends, is that you have a family of faith like this too.  If not, it is my prayer I'm lifting up for you today.




Linked with #DancewithJesus

Faithful Friday: Let it Shine

I have a confession to make....

Sometimes this little blog gets jealous.

When visiting other blogs, with their flashy pages, professional layouts, and thousands of followers, it sometimes makes me doubt.

And I wonder, why do I even still try?

Does anyone really read these posts (besides my Mom)?
Am I making a difference?

Sure, I can view this blog's stats and witness how it has grown the past few years.  Yes, I can see visible progress as my own skills have improved.  And thankfully, there are a few loyal readers who still make time to comment now and then.

But, am I really, truly spreading JOY around?

Pondering this, I recalled how this little blog even began.

It was from a get-out-of-the-bed moment that God jolted me with in the middle of the night.  I'd been pouring out my soul on Austin's memorial blog, often too dark and deep for many to keep reading. Those who did would often say, "Are you ok?" after a particularly difficult post.  But spilling out those words helped heal my broken heart.

With more than His usual whisper, He strongly nudged me that night to the computer screen and the rest, as they say, is history.

In the beginning, it was still for and about me.  An online journal to channel my grief, but with a growing urgency to do more, say more, share more.  I was on a journey to find joy and knew God would take me there.  At some point, it became less about my healing process and more about sharing the work God did through me, in hopes that it would help others.

That remains the goal for this blog today.  When I write, there is someone out there in mind. I may have never met you, I don't even know your name.  But God puts these words in my head and on my heart so I type them out.  To you.

Prayerfully, my wish is that they reach you.  And in some small, little way, help.

Maybe a post can bring a smile to you on a gloomy day.  Perhaps God uses a particular scripture to speak to you, through me.  Sometimes, by chance, might you giggle at a silly thing I say.  And in the midst of your journey on this earth, even in the darkest of valleys, you see that joy does still exist.

In the deepest of dark, light still remains.

So, whether there are four readers - or four thousand, I will keep writing.  Keep sharing.  Keep Shining.  And most certainly, keep spreading the joy...

This little blog still has work to do.


Humbly His

Faithful Friday: Being Neighborly

Whoa, September.  How did you get so busy?

Evening practices and meetings, obligations, birthday parties, reunions and church functions. Penciled around the few precious hours that are free each week, it doesn't leave room for much else. Sigh...

For this momma hen who likes her chicks in the barn, this is a struggle for me.  I'm selfish with my family time and don't like to share.  But it's only because I know how special and fleeting this time is, as I watch the kids grow and stretch and mark another year off the calendar so quickly.

We've had something every night the past few evenings and our weekends are just as busy.  It doesn't give one a chance to catch their breath and take life in.  Can we just pause - and be - for a minute?

Last night was a rare free evening and I took advantage of it by preparing a Sunday supper for a weeknight meal.  Sneaking home at lunch, I chopped and sprinkled, tossing goodies into the crockpot.  They greeted me upon arrival, as Noah and I entered, having just picked him up from basketball conditioning.

There's just something special about the aroma of a pot roast simmering away.....

As Noah crashed onto his bed, I busied myself with wrapping it up, doing my best to time it perfectly for Tim and Tina to walk through the door.  She is normally starving after 2 1/2 hours of dance practice and I knew she'd smile when the scent greeted her, once home.

All was working wonderfully, plates and forks stacked in our spot ready for filling.  Our favorite show queued for enjoyment before homework and chores pulled us away again.  Two doors shut, signaling their arrival, but only Tina walked in.

Tim often lingers, checks mail, tinkers with the boat, or completes paperwork, so I thought not much of it, until at the sink I noticed an unknown vehicle in the drive.  A neighbor, one we rarely talk to, was outside and talking to my hubby.

And dinner was waiting....

I'd like to say that I gave lots of grace and patience but I did not.  With two starving teens and a mom whose love language is quality time, this didn't settle well.

What on earth was taking him so long?
This neighbor never stops by, what could he want?
Why is Tim not telling him we have dinner plans?

A few glances out the door and unresponded texts later, we opt to go ahead and eat the once steaming, now cooling meal.  I should've enjoyed the one on one time with the kids.  It would've given us an opportunity to share about each other's day.  But I didn't.  Instead I ate and stewed and sighed.

Lord, Help me.

An hour later my tired hubby entered the door and I let him heat his own plate in the microwave.  Of course, the first thing I wanted to know was why he stayed outside so long.  His answer didn't help my attitude.

The neighbor wanted - nothing.  Just to talk.  About anything and everything and nothing in particular.  Well, that was just silly, I thought.  But my husband, in all his gentle wisdom stated the obvious.  Maybe he just needed company.  Just someone to talk to.  And Tim arrived home at just the right moment.

Humble pie for dessert?... 

And then this morning, as He so often does, God nudged me about the neighbor.  Perhaps instead of fretting that dinner was delayed, I should be thankful there was a meal to be had.  Maybe I could have invited the man inside to join us (so could my husband I grumbled back).  Who else have I been too busy for or selfish with my time against this week?

Yes, Lord, the giver of my time, I hear you.

It's only the second greatest commandment in your Book, after all.
I read it, I know it, but I don't always live it.

Help me to see those neighbors in need.  

Whether it be across the street, in the aisle, along the roadway, or near me in a pew.  Help me to see them with your eyes and not put up fences with my time.

Amen.

Faithful Friday: Finding Rest

What are your plans this long labor day weekend?

Whether it is cookouts, time with family and friends, camping trips, one last jaunt on the lake, or tackling a home project, I think a common theme in anyone's holiday weekend is the joy of an extra day.

For many, the thought of rest comes to mind.  An extra day to sleep in or just linger as summer says farewell.

Around here, rain threatens to dampen many plans, but I guess it makes it lucky for us that we really didn't make any.  Knowing Tim is on call for multiple areas this weekend, we decided it was best to go with the flow.

If I can get one gallon of homemade ice cream made, spend time with family, sneak in some fishing on the boat (rain clouds not included), and take a few naps, I'll be one happy lady.  My September calendar is looking pretty crowded so resting up will be much appreciated for these tired old bones.

An unplanned Labor Day weekend takes me back to our last with Austin.  We shared an extra special one that year, not just because it was our last, but because on that spontaneous trip time seemed to stand still.

Our entire day was unplanned and unscheduled with new and exciting activities. 

Such a simple holiday, filled with precious memories. 

I imagined Pine Knob as a little piece of Heaven and like to think that Austin now lives among beauty and peace such as was found on that perfect summer day.

You can read more of that day here on Austin's blog.

While we all long for that eternal rest we'll see someday, such peace is available in the here and now.  When you fully give your heart to God and trust in Him with all of life's worries, he sends a peace that is indescribable.  I know because I've felt it.  It's been a gift in the most traumatic and dark times of my life.  

But there's a joyful peace too that I carry with me too, always.  He's there shining down on the sunny days and within me on the not so sunny ones...There's rest in Him on everyday stresses and times of chaos.  Of juggling schedules and feeling the pulls of motherhood.  Of expectations we set on our ourselves that we never quite reach.  Of the darkness of this world.  

Whatever I'm facing, I know that I can lay it at His feet and find rest.  I pray this for you too, my friends.