The Beauty of the Body

Welcome to this week's Tuesdays Together in the Word. To join us, please click on the button below:



For a time, I so enjoyed spending Tuesdays sharing nuggets from God's Word on DeeDee's Tuesdays Together meme. But, alas...summer beckoned and we took some time off from our Tuesday sharing. We are back this week with some thoughts from 1 Corinthians.(Can't wait to catch up with the other ladies on this journey! I've missed you girls!) There really was so much that could be said about love and Jesus having the victory over death. Lots of great stuff. But, I would like to write this early Tuesday morning about one of my favorite subjects: the beauty of the body of Christ. In case the title of this post or the phrase body of Christ is confusing to you, let me clarify. The body of Christ refers to "the church"...His people, His followers. Believers make up the body of Christ.

There are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are differences of ministries, but the same Lord. And there are diversities of activities, but it is the same God who works all in all. ~ I Corinthians 12:4-6

Oh, I love it. Almost nothing blesses my socks off more than seeing how the Lord uses different people with various gifts to come together to fulfill His purposes. I love it! I'm getting excited just thinking about the beauty of the ways God has worked in the lives of those around me. Take Sufficient Grace Ministries for example. God has laid different burdens on each heart, but all come together with the purpose of reaching out to minister to grieving hearts. He has drawn people with different gifts together to serve this purpose. Ladies with servants hearts, willing to use their various abilities and talents have joined as one. Those with the ability to sew make beautiful burial gowns and Comfort Bears. Those with a heart to pray intercede on our behalf. One with a talent for creating jewelry makes matching mommy/baby bracelets to give as keepsakes for grieving mothers. Gifted photographers offer their time and abilities to make sure that families have lasting, tangible memories of their time on this earth with their precious babies. Those with the gift of encouragement, encourage. Those with a gift of music, minister and worship through song. Some share through speaking and writing with words given by the Holy Spirit. Some have a compassionate heart. Some great mercy...some abundant grace. Some, a word of wisdom and some a listening ear. Some have great hospitality. Some are wonderful administrators...organized and orderly. (Not so much me, but some!=)

You see, we are who we are for a reason. It is no accident the gifts we have been given. Our interests and abilities have a purpose. They have been placed in our hearts to be used to serve the Lord and minister to His people. Every one of us has the ability to be used in some way. The beauty of the body of Christ is that all have a part. Nothing is wasted. God can use all of us, and every part of us. And...He wants to! He doesn't waste anything. And, every single part matters. We all have something to give. Doesn't that just blow your mind?

After speaking of the various spiritual gifts in verses 4-10, this one jumps out: But one and the same Spirit works in all these things, distributing to each one individually as He wills. ~ I Corinthians 12:11 God determines what each person's gifts and abilities will be. The Holy Spirit works in all these things.

There are many ways that we members come together to form the beautiful body of Christ. For as the body is one and have many members, but all the members of that one body, being many, are one body, so also is Christ. (I Corinth. 12:12) There are many parts to our physical bodies, and all have a role. We have eyes, toes, fingers, legs, arms, etc. All are part of the body. All different parts. We can't all have the same part. We can't all be eyes, or legs, or arms. There must be different parts...different roles to play.(Speaking of roles, in theatre it is commonly said, "There are no small parts, only small actors." Well, that saying is somewhat true in this sense, as well. Nurturing our children and caring for our home has no less importance than say, leading worship. In many ways, it may have greater value. Yet, each part serves a purpose. God desires an obedient, willing heart. We are to be used for His glory, not our own.) But now God has set the members, each one of them, in the body just as He pleased. And if we were all one member, where would the body be? But indeed, there are many members, yet one body. (I Corinth. 12:18-20)

I shared ways that different members use their abilities and gifts through Sufficient Grace Ministries. But, there are many other ministries that God works through the same way, and we are are still part of the same body. God has laid it on my heart to serve in one way that meets the needs of some, and another person ministers in another area, filling yet another need. Our God is creative and He works in amazing ways in the lives of the willing hearts of His people. We must recognize and encourage one another...rejoicing in whatever way that Christ is preached. Too often, it feels that different ministries are divided, instead of encouraging one another to grow and continue the good work God has begun in them. We are one...part of the same body. And, all are necessary and useful to Him. And, if one member suffers, all members suffer with it; or if one member is honored, all members rejoice with it. (I Corinth. 12:26)

In many ways, we need to be reminded to love and encourage one another. Which, I suppose is the reason that I Corinthians 13 comes next in the Bible. But, that chapter deserves it's own post, so I will just leave you with this. Be the person God has created you to be. If he has gifted you with an ability, use it for His glory. If you aren't sure how to do that, ask Him to show you. He is just waiting to answer that prayer! And, you will be abundantly blessed and amazed to see what He is able to do in and through your life!

Behind...and (Finally) Some Blog Winners

I am hopelessly and pathetically behind on almost everything in my life right now. If I have promised you a Dreams of You Memory Book or Comfort Bear recently, please be patient with me and please accept my apologies for taking so long. You are on my list...and I have not forgotten. I have been planning to send a shipment out for a few weeks, now. And, in the mean time, more orders have come in. Thank you notes and donation receipts have not been sent. The newsletter has not been written and/or sent out. And life just keeps marching on.

Life with all it's back to school adjustments...first time bus rides...new school attending...Homecoming Dance going...golf tournament playing...soccer kicking...children's worship leading...school picture smiling...working...serving...praying goodness.

So, I am sorry for the wait if you are waiting on anything from us. You are never far from my mind, my heart, or my prayers. I WILL be getting a shipment out soon.

And, without further adieu...the winners from this post (Yes...I know that was weeks ago. Didn't I say I was behind?):

Monica my Writer Chic friend.
Kathryn my Expectant Hearted-friend.

Both lovely women who have beautiful sons perfecting their dances in heaven's glory. I love you ladies!

Yes...I decided to give away two copies of Lynnette's wonderful book, In Faithfulness, He Afflicted Me, instead of just one. You know, good things come to those who wait...and all that!!

Speaking of behind...

One more thing that I've put off. This blog world has been a wonderful gift. I have met some amazing women...that I now call dear friends. I have found nothing but love and encouragement here. And, I'm so grateful. But, I have sadly learned that there is a negative, ugly side to this blog world. Not because of my own personal experience, but from reading the blogs of others. Perhaps it does make one want to "circle the wagons" and "hunker down" a little bit...holding the ones we love close and stepping away from the rest. As I have watched the attacks on MckMama, I have hesitated to speak, because we in blog land really only know one another in part. I suppose if any of us were put under a magnifying glass, we would find a lot of flaws in the lives of imperfect people. Isn't that why we need grace? Isn't that why we need a Savior...because we are imperfect. I don't know every detail of the lives of my friends...in blog land or in real life. And, it is not my intention to engage in any discussion regarding the details of the lives of others, which I really know nothing of. Neither to discuss or defend. It isn't the purpose of this ministry or this blog. What I can do, is simply say that MckMama has been nothing but gracious and generous in her support of Sufficient Grace Ministries. She has kept her word, doing everything she said she would. And, we are grateful for her generosity and pray that the Lord would continue to carry her family as they walk this path.

What is the purpose of this blog? It is our desire to encourage women and families with God's Word and to offer comfort and hope to those who grieve or suffer through various trials. Sometimes we may also laugh, share a little silliness, or a tidbit from our family life. Our heart's purpose is to share the love of Jesus with all that we meet and to offer His comfort and hope through Sufficient Grace Ministries. I pray that the Lord will strengthen and enable us to fulfill that purpose.

Thank You, Holly

Sweet Holly wrote a beautiful blog post, featuring Sufficient Grace Ministries. Click on over to read it here. I am honored and blessed by her words. What an amazing blessing she is to me and to so many that she reaches out to with her compassionate heart. Thanks Holly!

September Wind

I can feel the September winds blowing in, filled with intoxicating memories that swirl around me, pulling me to that place of remembering moments I ache to experience once more and moments I never want to revisit.

Her birthday was in September. She turned fifty in a hospital bed, smiling as she ate a piece of my famous peanut butter cream pie...laughing carelessly with Pastor James (who incidentally, if I recall is among the two people in the whole world that did not profess my pie as the most wonderful thing in all the land!!). I was wishing she didn't have to endure the treatments much longer. She was determined to continue fighting.

I remember the day they said the word cancer. Actually, the oncologist spouted off a thousand other unrecognizable words. The kind of words that doctors use when they don't really want to tell you the findings. Words are easy to hide behind.

So, I finally said, "Are you saying she does not have cancer?"

"No," he said. "I am saying she most certainly does have cancer."

We walked out of the room, after she promptly told him that she would make him famous when she beat this cancer. He pulled me aside and said, "I need you to understand. It's not good. What we're dealing with...It's very serious...it's bad."

I guess it was easier to tell me than to look into her determined, beautiful eyes and say those horrible words. I appreciated his honesty, though. From the places I've walked, I'd rather know what I'm dealing with head-on. Once you know that you are not invincible...once you know that it's possible to lose someone you love...it's kind of always with you. That possibility.

I acted strong, nodding to the doctor, smiling at my mother. I felt the room start to spin, as I struggled to steady myself. I thought, "If I could just get to the bathroom before anyone notices." I barely made it inside the door, when I collapsed against the wall, my body shaking with the sobs of a helpless little girl...not the strong woman of faith who had been carried more than once through the sea of grief by her loving Savior. But, a little girl...whose mother was filled with a hideous disease that would steal her health, her body, her mind, and her life...but couldn't kill her spirit. The sea of grief swirled around me, taking me captive with swells of images from other times when death's darkness stood mocking me...as he threatened to steal the ones I love. I resisted crying "NO" from the depths of my soul as the memories washed over me, "I'm sorry there are no heartbeats...they're gone"..."a condition known as Potter's Syndrome"..."incompatible with life"...and, now..."cancer...it's not good...very bad". I cried out to God, begging him to spare her...to spare all of us. The sorrow had it's way with me in that oncology office bathroom. Then I wiped my tears and walked out, stunned to face a life that held that ugly word.

She had "cancer of unknown origin" that they think possibly started in her lungs. It had spread to her lymph nodes, her brain, her bones...it was everywhere! They said she had two weeks to six months. Two weeks? I couldn't even process that. Thirteen months and tons of chemo and radiation treatments later, she sat in that hospital bed on her fiftieth birthday, lighting the room with her smile.

Growing up, we had a tumultuous relationship. I was so head strong...always wanting to establish my independence. I spent most of her life missing all of her gifts and her beauty...all of the things about her that made almost everyone who knew her fall in love with her. She had that kind of gift about her. She was so beautiful that people were held captive by her, even after the cancer treatments left her bald and thin as a rail. Didn't matter. She glowed with beauty. I spent most of her life missing it...but when that word was spoken, everything between us disappeared. All I could see when I looked at her was the person God created her to be. All of the barriers between us tumbled helplessly when that word was spoken, and we could hug and laugh and share our hearts. As often happens, there were precious gifts, even in the face of such hideousness.

A few weeks after her birthday, we made the trip we had taken so many times down river road...the one with all the big beautiful, extravagant houses. She had one picked out on that road. Only, hers was a little cottage with some hanging baskets on the porch. She always did prefer the simple things in life. The leaves were a myriad of colors, exploding with the majesty of fall as we drove the winding path to the hospital for a visit to the ER to help manage her pain. It was just a "routine" pain management visit. We should have gone home later that day. We made jokes in the ER and giggled. I looked over and she was out cold...resting from the medicine they had given her. I felt the relief a mother feels when her baby is resting, knowing that she was not in pain at that moment.

They decided to keep her in the hospital over night. But it soon became clear that this time was not like all the others. She wasn't making sense and could barely wake up. When she did, she seemed like a little girl. I realized that I couldn't leave her in the hospital when I saw the condition she was in the next morning. She stayed for three days, and our very large family surrounded us as we tried to make sense of what was happening to our mother. In and out of consciousness...barely coherent. Where had she gone? I was just talking to her hours before. I can't describe to you what transpired next. The memories overwhelm me.

All of her doctors agreed that the next step was to take her to the Hospice Center or a nursing home. The cancer had spread throughout her body and it was only a matter of time. They said, "Maybe 48 hours." We had promised her that we would not put her in a nursing home, so we reluctantly chose the Hospice Center, thinking that it would probably only be a few days. We decided right away that we wouldn't leave her alone. So, we stayed there with her...sometimes all together, sometimes taking shifts. The Hospice people were amazing...and we are so grateful for their compassionate care.

Forty-eight hours turned into four weeks. For four agonizing weeks, she suffered in a way I never knew it was possible for a human being to suffer. We didn't sleep, except for a couple hours here and there when we would collapse out of exhaustion and then we would awaken in a panic. I sang to her, prayed over her, read scriptures...as I've described before. What I haven't described is the depth of suffering she endured. And I won't...I can't. Only the ones who were there can understand what it was like. All I can say, is that it shook me to the core...trembling the very foundation of my faith. There were, of course, glimpses of joy in the midst of sorrow and gifts...even in the pain. She would awaken sometimes and we hung on every word, when she was able to speak. We never wanted to leave...desperate to soak in every moment we were given with her...and wanting to be there, when she was finally carried Home.

I won't lie...I begged God to take her Home. The suffering was so much...and I couldn't bear to see her in such agony. But the moment she left us, I realized that her leaving left us without her. And, the missing came. The missing was like nothing I ever thought possible, either. And, if anything, it has intensified with time. Every September - October, when the leaves change and start to fall, and the fall winds blow...the missing washes over me anew...and the memories flood my mind. I even resist sometimes...wanting to just keep my eyes on Jesus and rest in His comfort...wanting to just enjoy the land of the living. But, almost involuntarily, my body reacts. I can't sleep in September and my heart aches with the missing of her so deeply, I am overcome. The memories flood my mind. The sights and smells and feelings of fall all bring with it that time.

I walked into her house this afternoon to let out her dog (which we do for my stepfather every afternoon), and the ache was stronger that I could contain. I felt suddenly so desperate to see her sitting on her couch. It's been three years, and I don't know when I'll be able to walk into her house and not feel disappointed that she isn't laying on her couch. I walked through the house, stopping in the kitchen as I remembered the feeling of "home" when we would stand there, laughing about when we were kids and the silly things we did. We would tell stories in the kitchen. I washed countless dishes in that kitchen (those who have known me a long time always laugh, because it seems I'm always doing the dishes...and have been since they've known me!) I thought about how if she were here, she would laugh at my "teaching Timothy to drive" stories and annoy me as she told him the stories of "teaching me to drive when I was 16"! I can't explain to you the bittersweetness of those memories or the depth of the ache. I can't explain how it feels to stand in the kitchen of your childhood home and feel like your "home" is no longer. It disappeared with her. But, if you have felt that kind of missing...if you have lost someone you love like that...someone who was your constant...your definition of family, you know.

There are so many things that a mother fills in our lives. Sometimes I wonder where she begins and I end. So much of our mothers are part of the person we become. You know, you can't really brag about your kids to anyone but your mother. No one else gets it, cares, or loves them like she does...like you do. She would love to hear about Timothy going to the Homecoming Dance, and James scoring a goal in soccer. She would be excited to hear her grandson's name on the radio for having the lowest round of golf. She would relish it and wallow in it like Grandma's do.

For the rest of the time I walk this earth, something...someone will be missing. Several someones. Eventually that is true for all of us, and I know that. We will all lose someone we love. I also know that there is comfort in the arms of our heavenly Father...that one day, we will see them again. One day, I'll laugh with my mother and hold my babies. I know, until that day, His grace is sufficient and He will carry me...I know all of that. But, right now...I'm just aching with missing...swept into the memories of a September wind.

For the Joy Set Before Us

Thank you for joining us this week for Walking With You. This group was created to offer comfort, encouragement, and hope to grieving families who have lost a child. This week, we are sharing what it will be like the day we are reunited with our precious babies in heaven. This will be the last weekly Walking With You. I have decided to make this a once a month post. It will be the first Thursday of each month. And the focus will be on encouraging one another as we walk this walk from various places. I have been thoroughly blessed to read your stories, and look forward to continuing to walk with each of you. As always, you may visit all the Walking With You posts by clicking on the Walking With You button on the sidebar.

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
~Hebrews 12:1-2

We are living in earthly vessels, but this life is not forever. We are mothers who have said goodbye to our sweet babies, but that goodbye is not forever. We who walk with Jesus, pick up our crosses daily to follow Him as we walk this earth. Why do we do it? For the joy set before us, of course...just like our great Teacher. His joy is our salvation...the promise of restoration...the promise of eternal life with Him...the promise of the sweetest reunion. That's where I fix my eyes when they grow too weary from looking at what this world has to offer.

There are many verses that speak of the promise we have in heaven. Unfortunately, I do not have the time this evening to look all of them up. One verse speaks of knowing one another as we are known. We will know one another when we get to heaven, just like we know each other here. Faith and Grace will probably have their long piano-player fingers and button noses. They will probably have the same dainty little lips, and I'm sure brown eyes just like their daddy and brothers. Thomas will have the same nose shared by all of our children along with the same brown eyes. He will probably have the same auburn hair that made me smile so for the short time he spent in my arms. What they will not have is a sign of the brokenness that this earth held for them. They will be complete...perfect...knowing none of earth's sorrows. What must that be like?

One of my favorite books is called Mommy, Please Don't Cry. It is written from the perspective of a child in heaven to his/her mommy, as he shares all of the fun things happening in heaven. I know that we cannot imagine all that He has prepared for us. But, I know that He promises to prepare a place for each of us...and it is sure to be wonderful...better than anything we could imagine or dream of.

When I think of that day, Jesus is the first person on my mind. I suppose the experience of finally beholding and standing in the presence of my Savior will probably overshadow anything else for a time. But, beyond Him I imagine they are waiting for me. It means so much to me, I can barely type the words through my tears. Truly, no words can describe the picture of my mother standing there without the pain that this life held for her, without the disappointments of this life, without the effects of cancer etched on her beautiful face. And in her arms and dancing around her feet...my babies. My little girls and my sweet, sweet boy. Full of joy overflowing...shining on their faces. For some reason I can't explain, I see Faith and Grace as little girls instead of babies. They have long brown, wavy hair with ribbons streaming down their backs and pink dresses. They are lively and precious and full of personality. Faith is a little more reserved than Grace, just as she was in my womb. Grace is full of energy and light. They both giggle and embrace me with delight shining in their eyes. Thomas is in the arms of my mother...still a baby in my mind. A roly-poly picture of health and baby-boy sweetness. Sometimes I picture him as a baby...and sometimes a very young boy. He is a little shy and full of wisdom for one so small. In an instant, these little ones I have longed for fill my waiting arms...arms that will never again know emptiness. Every tear I've cried for them is dried by the hand of my Beloved Savior...every ounce of sorrow gives way to unspeakable joy that I have never fully known.

Can I describe how it may feel to hold them in my arms on that day? Can I even allow myself to think of what that may feel like? I cannot. The ache is too deep to allow myself to fully visit that notion. Recently, our teen youth group at church did a breath-taking skit to a song about heaven's reunion (the title slips my mind right now, of course...but I will see if I can find out the name of the song.). The skit was very powerful. In the beginning, it showed a mother who lost a child and various people at funerals grieving for loved ones...mothers, wives, fathers, babies. Then, it switched to show the families reunited with their loved ones in heaven. When the little child ran to the arms of the mother, I melted into sobs into my husband's arms and couldn't watch anymore. It means too much to me...that promise, that hope. It is a desperate hope I place in the Lord...so desperate I couldn't even watch the re-enactment. You see, my hope isn't just some words on a page. It really means something when you have something at stake. Believing and hoping is easy when there isn't anything attached. It is a different belief when you're asked to let go and trust that He will carry not only you, but the children you hold so dear.

There will be singing and rejoicing...a celebration the likes of which I've never seen. I cannot imagine the beauty of worshipping with the multitudes unknown...the choirs of angels singing. Some sweet day, I'll sing up there...the song of victory...I'll walk the streets of gold...I'll keep telling that old redemption story...and I will dwell forever in the place that my Lord has prepared for me, surrounded by the ones I love...the treasures waiting for me, even now.

I won't lie to you. I have faced moments when I questioned the certainty of those promises that I cling to so desperately. I was always so certain...until I watched my dear mother suffer greatly and die after a valiant battle with cancer. She suffered in a way I didn't know was possible. I felt the Lord's presence when He carried Thomas home...felt His comfort in the days after we said good-bye to Faith and Grace. But, I sat beside my mother's bed, crying out to Him, longing to see...longing to feel Him....singing of His truth...searching His Word...praying tearful prayers. Even as I reassured her, I longed for Him to reassure me. Would He really come for her like He promised? Did He really prepare a place for her...for me? I can't explain why I wondered this...why the questions even entered my heart. Perhaps it came from looking into the face of such suffering. Perhaps it was just the fact that it meant so much to me, to know His promises were true. I had never tasted the bitterness of death so closely.

Time and time again, He has reassured me with these words...the same words He spoke to my heart and hers as her earthly life waned and we felt surrounded by the darkness of death:

Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also. And where I go you know, and the way you know."

Thomas said to Him, "Lord, we do not know where You are going, and how can we know the way?"

Jesus said to him, " I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me." ~ John 14:1-6

For now, I will daily pick up my cross to follow Him...fixing my eyes on the joy set before me...the glorious promise of a sweet reunion with the treasures that are already laid up for us in heaven's glory.

For now, I dream my dreams of them...until we meet again.

Our First House and a Walking With You Update

I have so missed participating in Lynnette's Wednesdays Walk down memory lane, which is now called So We Don't Forget. If you haven't noticed, I haven't been much of a blogger lately. I'm falling behind on ministry work, and adjusting to our school/work schedule as I've returned to my full time school year job. So, this morning, I was delighted to awaken to fog and the subsequent two-hour delay that has filled my heart with joy this morning. So, here I am...graced with an extra two hours.

Today, Lynnette has instructed us to share about our first house after we were married. More than fifteen years ago, Tim and I stood together...two starry-eyed teenagers making big vows before God and a couple friends...shaking under the weight of such promises. We lived in a one bedroom apartment on the edge of our tiny town, with our baby boy. His crib was in our room. The apartment complex was newly built. And we were the first people to live there. It was clean and simple. The kitchen was small, but big enough for a little table and chairs and a high chair. There was a tiny living room, our bedroom, and a very large bathroom. The bathroom was big enough to house a small washer and dryer, which was added later. I think it raised our rent to $25 more per month...but it was definitely money well spent. Prior to that, I was carting our laundry to the laundromat. So, the washer and dryer were a welcome gift!

As a matter of fact, our current dryer (2 dryers after the aforementioned dryer) recently broke down. We ordered a new one, but it hasn't arrived yet. I, sadly, do not have a clothesline. So, wet clothes were hanging throughout our house. I just did not want to go to the laundromat...ugg. I stubbornly stuck it out for a few days, but laundry is a daily issue here with athletes, a hard-working husband (the kind who gets very dirty and sweaty), and myself...having to wear actual clothes everyday to go to work instead of shorts and sweat pants. (Oh...how I love my sweat pants.) So, this weekend, I found myself back at the laundromat to dry some of our clothes (as we wait for our dryer). Nothing has changed there in the past fifteen years, but I was reminded of a time when everything was new and exciting. It was a time when I didn't really mind going to the laundromat. Tim and I were so young and full of life and possibility. We were just so glad to be on our own and doing things our own way. You know how desperately you want to get out from under your parents' wings and prove that you can live life on your own? Well, at least that's how we felt. Funny how I'd give anything to be back in my mother's arms now that she is gone. But back then, I was stubborn and full of vinegar. Enough to go to the laundromat and live in a one-bedroom apartment and work as a waitress to help my young husband who was himself trying to finish school and working at a machine shop, support our little family. I suppose vinegar can work for good, too. I'll try and remember that when I see the vinegar in my own teenage son.

My favorite thing about that time, besides the sheer joy of having our own place to live, was going to the grocery store. It was so much fun to buy what we wanted to eat. My mom was pretty health conscious and also needed to be frugal. So, we rarely had junk food in our house. Never pop and few chips. Well, I've never met a Dorito I didn't like, and I love Pepsi. So, it was on. I was like a kid in a candy store (well...actually, at 18, I pretty much WAS a kid in a candy store!). Hawaiian punch, Chips Ahoy Cookies, pizza, pop, Doritos, spaghetti...along with diapers and baby food of course...filled our cart. And my eyes danced with glee at the festival of junk food! Good times! Of course, I gained weight and learned that it's not all gold that glitters...but, it was a sweet time of simple joys. And, it makes me smile to think back on it. We lived there less than a year before we moved to a larger two bedroom duplex with an attached garage and a laundry room. That laundry room was glorious! At the tender age of nineteen, we built our first house...a little three bedroom where we still live today.

Such sweet memories!

Better is a little with the fear of the Lord,
Than great treasure with trouble.
Better is a dinner of herbs where love is,
Than a fatted calf with hatred.
~Proverbs 15:16-17
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Walking With You Update: Participation is down on Walking With You (and, I even lost a follower this week!). I will be doing a Walking With You post tomorrow about what it will be like to meet our children in heaven one day, and hope you are able to participate...as we focus on the joy set before us. Then, I am thinking of revamping our format a little. Maybe we could do a study on heaven, maybe just post a comforting verse, with a little commentary to encourage those who grieve. I also thought of switching it to once a month. My desire for Walking With You is to reach out in love and encouragement to grieving families....that they may know they are not walking alone. I hope it has and is ministering to the needs of those families. I know I have been blessed to walk with each of you. But, with participation dwindling, I am considering whether to continue what we are doing...or change it up a little. I don't want to stop it all together, because I know from emails that people are reading even if they don't participate. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this.

Walking With You

This week, we are sharing ways that we incorporate the memories of our children into our lives and family. We can also share any ministries, outreaches, or just beautiful ways that our children's lives have impacted the lives of others. I so wish I had more time to devote to this post. I'm writing it before work this morning, so please be understanding of this thrown together post.

Faith and Grace went home to heaven in November, so Christmas was not far behind. Many people sent us Christmas ornaments in memory of our girls. Over the years, we have added ornaments for each of our children. After Thomas' passing in July of 1998, ornaments were added for him, as well. They are scattered throughout the tree along with the ornaments that our boys make in school that remind us of the way they are growing as they walk this earth.

Another Christmas-related thing we do: Each Christmas, the boys help me pick out gifts to fill shoe-boxes for Samaritan's Purse. We do one in memory of each child. So, our family sends two girl boxes and one boy box. It has always been a blessing to us to remember our children in this simple way. We enjoy shopping for little gifts that we would give them if they were with us, and we are grateful that those gifts will be given to children in need.

In the early years, we had a birthday celebration. My friend Ginny and her children even shared a few with us. She made pink frosted cookies for Faith and Grace's celebration. And we had cupcakes one year. We did this for Thomas' special day, too (although not pink, of course!). Timothy and I would sing "Happy Birthday" and he would blow out the candle. He always wondered when he was little if they could see us celebrating. Then we would talk about what they may be doing. He would talk about what he would give them if they were here.

For many years, we did not have pictures of our heavenly babies on the shelves. But, they are there now...blended among pictures of our children who are with us. Faith and Grace's tiny, delicate footprints and Thomas' angelic little face both sit on our shelf, along with memorabilia that remind us of their lives. For they ARE living...in heaven's glory.

As you know, our family has been blessed to begin a ministry for grieving families. We established Sufficient Grace Ministries for Women (and Families) in 2004. I created the Dreams of You Memory Book a few months after publishing a short story about our sweet Faith, Grace, and Thomas and the gift of God's grace. The greatest gift we have received from the lives of our heavenly children has been to know the sufficiency of God's grace and His ability to make beauty from ashes in our lives. He comforted us in our desperate grief. And, it is the desire of our hearts to reach out to offer that same comfort to other grieving families. Hundreds of lives have been touched through this ministry. People have been comforted in their grief. Souls in our family have been saved as people turned to Jesus for comfort. Our marriage has been blessed with a lasting love...although it was tested by fire. Restoration is a beautiful, amazing gift to behold...the restoration of lives, souls, marriages. Thousands have read and know the names of these precious little babies through this blog and our ministry. Every time we are able to give a family a Dreams of You Memory Book or a Comfort Bear, or just to pray for them and reassure them that we understand their pain....our children are remembered, and we are humbled to know that God values and uses every precious life. You know the feeling you get when you watch your child hit a baseball and slide into home plate or ride his bike for the first time or just anything to spread his wings and soar? Seeing another person's life impacted by the lives of my Faith, Grace, and Thomas gives me that same feeling. It isn't the reason I serve in this ministry...but it is certainly a blessing that comes from it. God's purpose for their lives is evident to us, and more is being revealed as time goes on...and that is a great gift.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort that we ourselves have received from God. ~ 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Please click on the links within this post to learn more about our ministry and our journey. For now, I am off to work. But, I hope you will link up and join us this week to share the ways that you remember your little ones.

Updated: I was not able to get this posted as I wanted before work. I'm so sorry it's so late...please forgive me. I hope you are all able to join and share with us the ways you remember your precious children. Please share a comment and link your post below.

Another Update: I wanted to let you know that my sweet blog-friend, Holly is listing all of her angel friends and their babies who have gone to heaven on her blog. If you would like to include your baby's name, please stop and add it to the list here. Thanks so much for thinking of this, Holly. We will be doing something in October for pregnancy loss month. You are always so thoughtful and compassionate.