Senior Pictures...and Mama Confessions

This is my senior boy. I know you've been hearing a bit about our first born lately around these blog-parts, and I promise I will post about something else soon. But truthfully, I'm a bit consumed by this fleeting time.

My sweet friend Dawn Marshall took his senior pictures last month and she let us share one here. They turned out great, don't you think?

She also emailed me a copy of a pic she snapped before the one above. When Timothy took his guitar out of his case, it was a bit dusty. So, without skipping a beat, I did what mamas do. I dusted it off with the bottom of my skirt. Dawn, being a mama herself, was amused by the gesture. (Please ignore the fact that it was not my best side!)

Speaking of not my best side, I've been doing some thinking on the stuff we mamas do...the schedules we juggle, the guilt we carry, the things we forget, the things we'll never forget, the things we wish we could forget, and the things we want to remember forever, the things we mess up, and the moments when God's grace shines through and we breathe a satisfied sigh.I've been pondering the passing of time...the way everyone says that it will go so fast. 

They are so right.

I returned to my job as a paraprofessional at a local elementary school last week, and Timothy is in the thick of his very last high school golf season ever. SGM is busy and growing. Tim started his own business. And, James started middle school. I can feel the pull of my heart's desire to be the "keeper of my home" and the reality of the everyday demands of life. While I need to work, and enjoy my job working with special needs students, there are days when I would love to focus solely on the needs of my family...and bake some cookies. I've never felt like one of those people who could do it all. I try, but I mess it up.

I forget things, miss appointments, and constantly feel like I'm juggling and about to drop all the balls hanging in the air. A co-worker and fellow mama was sharing at lunch about  her child's homework, and forgetting something.

I looked up and said, "I don't know how other working mothers do it. Some seem to have it all together. I stink at it!"

And, I was thinking maybe I'm not the only mom who feels that way sometimes...whether we work outside of the home, or not. Maybe we all have moments when we feel like we are messing it all up. 

But, then, I look at my boy...almost all grown up. I remember the prayers I've prayed for his life...and the answers I've seen so far. I think about God's faithfulness, reflecting on all He has already done. Surely He isn't finished yet. His promises are the same for both my boys.

And, let me tell you...God hears the prayers of a mother.

I love that God is always big enough for everything that weighs on my mama-heart. I love that it's about His faithfulness...not my inability to get it right. It's about His strength...made perfect through my weakness. Always and without fail.

I'm so grateful...and now if you'll excuse me...I think I'll go bake some cookies.

I'm Gonna Miss This

It's funny the things we notice when we're looking. The things that get our attention and stop time for a moment. Sights, sounds, smells that whisper, "This is something to stop and soak into the depths

 of who you are...something to remember."

For me, it's the rhythmic clink-clack of golf clubs slung on the backs of my boys as they walk the course. They walk, and I follow, clubs clink-clacking...me, breathing it all in.

It's the sound of summer...the sound of fall...the sound of boys - young, healthy, and strong for this moment...doing what they love.

It's the sound of little brothers looking up to big brothers...and dads walking alongside.

It's the sound of me, following behind...soaking it in.

The Haven Network

I first read a blurb about The Haven Network a few years ago, shortly after learning about the concept of perinatal hospice and meeting Amy Kuebelbeck (author of Waiting With Gabriel). I was grazing through a list of perinatal hospice organizations, and stopped for moment when I read that The Haven Network was a Christian-based, non-profit organization, serving families who received a fatal diagnosis during pregnancy. Immediately something stirred in me. I knew that one day I'd like to make a connection with them and see what kind of work they do. Perinatal hospice was a fairly new concept, and I was quite intrigued with the idea that such a place could exist...a place where families facing a fatal pregnancy diagnosis could find support, encouragement, guidance, resources, and comfort. It is the very thing I wish existed when my family muddled our way through years ago, and some of what I longed to help provide for families myself through Sufficient Grace Ministries.

I came across the name again at some point, and found that The Haven Network was located in Rockford, Illinois...the same town my where my father lived. I thought that if I ever happened to visit my father, I would have to see if I could visit The Haven. Years passed, and we started serving families in our own way...through the Dreams of You Memory Book and Comfort Bears and online support through families. I spoke at hospitals and women's groups...sharing about the hope and comfort God gives and about SGM.

Two weeks ago, while planning a spontaneous visit to finally see my father's home, I remembered The Haven Network. The whirlwind trip was going to be a busy one...with just the boys and me. So, I wasn't sure if I could pull it off. I had a fleeting thought about getting their contact information, when a mom named Laura that we had ministered to through SGM sent me a comment on facebook that Rockford, Illinois was the location of the perinatal hospice organization that walked with her in her time of need. She had such wonderful things to say about the ways they had offered her support. I quickly asked for their contact info., and she sent it. I contacted them and spoke with Jean who was receptive to meeting with me and arranged a time that fit into our busy schedules.

We met Saturday morning. Jean greeted me at the door of their beautiful building location on the river. I walked through the hallway, gazing at walls adorned with gorgeous black and white photographs that captured precious, yet brief lives. Baby feet, mamas and babies, hands holding one another...soaking in a lifetime of love and memories in a moment. Everything about the place was soothing and welcoming...honoring of life.

I met Kathy, who joined Jean in her office to share the mission they had for families who face the loss of their babies. They have a staff with a nurse (Kathy) and a photographer and a host of volunteers. I kept choking down the emotion as I looked around me, as if walking in a dream, my own dream and vision. I had longed to create such a place where families could come...a haven where there would be love and encouragement to continue a pregnancy with hope and dignity. A place where each precious life is treasured and a family is supported through the process....a place where someone will hold the hand of each mama and daddy and walk with them all the way. At one point I had to allow the emotion to come out...so overwhelmed to know that such an amazing, beautiful place exists for families like us. I felt such awe and gratitude to be standing in the room with the women who created such a place...the women who have made this their life's work. How I long to do the same.

I shared with them the story of Faith, Grace, and Thomas...with much emotion spilling over. And, I told them about starting Sufficient Grace in 2004 and operating out of my basement. Even as we sat in their beautiful building, they shared about starting in a basement in the beginning, as well. I gave them the Dreams of You Memory Books and other items I had brought to give in memory of Michael Vollmer.

They loved the books and I felt that we had been parts of a puzzle fit together in that moment, as I admired all that they had accomplished and they encouraged me on what we have accomplished. (All of us knowing that God was really the One that made it all possible!)

It was such a blessing to spend time sharing and exchanging ideas with like-minded ladies, with hearts of compassion for the same purpose...comforting grieving families. I hope to work with them in the future in whatever way our paths happen to cross again. It seems the Lord has plans for us, and I look forward to seeing what that might be! I hope you'll take a few moments to learn more about this wonderful organization and the services they provide for families. Praying God's continued blessings on the beautiful ladies from The Haven Network.

                                               Pictured below: Jean, me, and Kathy

Leap of Faith

I've been thinking about leaps of faith lately. I suppose mainly because our family is about to take a really big leap of faith. After 16 years working as a concrete and excavating foreman, my husband is starting his own business:

This decision has been bathed in prayer, and we continue to pray that God would bless the work of Tim's experienced, hard-working hands as we take the next steps.

I'd like to share some thoughts on taking leaps and not looking back...what God has been whispering to my heart in the wee hours of the morning and the quiet of the evening...

In general, I have been granted great peace regarding this choice. Yesterday, I was gripped by some "did God really say" and "what if" questions. 

This morning I awoke with the same questions and God immediately spoke truth to my heart. He led me to Psalm 77:11-15, which talks about remembering what the Lord has done...and the greatness of our God.

The idea of looking back was pressed on my heart. I have been thinking a lot about the Israelites and how God told them to leave Egypt and not to worry...that He would provide. I thought of Abraham. Abraham was asked to go and did so as well...trusting and believing without seeing. Hebrews 11:8 says "By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to the place which he would received as an inheritance. And, he went out, not knowing where he was going." 

This morning, Lot's wife crossed my mind. God told Lot to take his family and flee...not to look back. They didn't have time to pack their things...didn't know where they were going or how they would get what they needed. They were just supposed to trust God to provide....just to go and trust. Obey. But, Lot's wife looked back...and that's when the trouble came! (If you're unfamiliar with the story, Lot's wife turned into a pillar of salt when she looked back.)

There wasn't some perfectly orchestrated elaborate plan laid out before them where they knew exactly where they would live and how they would eat and how it would all work. They had to wait on the Lord and trust Him to provide...trust Him to keep His promises. (Just so you know, I tend to be one of those people that really likes a perfectly orchestrated plan where I have a sense of security and control!)

The only time it's good to look back is when we are remembering what the Lord has done. It is never good to look back in longing for Egypt (the old ways or where we came from)...or as Lot's wife looked back.

Are you struggling with a decision...feeling led to take a leap of faith...feeling tempted to look back and take your eyes off the Lord?

Another great verse: Exodus 14:13- 15 "Do not be afraid. Stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord, which He will accomplish for you today. For the Egyptians who you see today, you shall see again no more forever. The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace. And the Lord said to Moses, 'Why do you cry to Me? Tell the children of Israel to go forward."

Just continuing to cling to Him...going forward...and taking the leap...trusting Him.

Our Trip to Chicago and My Dad

This weekend, I drove to Chicago. Alone with my boys.

If you know me in real life, you realize what a crazy big deal that is. I don't even like to drive on the highway an hour away! So, six hours on the turnpike, without Tim...now that's something! (Tim had work obligations, and couldn't join us.) But, I did it...and we survived. Sometimes you have to just pray, trust, and leap! I remember one of the lessons that hit home when my mother was battling cancer had to do with the song I Hope You Dance. The words: Whenever you have the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance were a message for me years ago. So, this weekend, I danced, driving to see my father's house for the first time, also to see my brother for the first time in close to a decade, and to meet with the ladies from The Haven Network. I'll be posting later this week about my visit to The Haven Network, as well as doing a special Chicago-style Traveling Food Fest. So stay tuned!

Tonight as I write this post, emotions and thoughts of family and ministry happenings tumbling around in my mind, I'm not sure where to begin.

Thursday, we left in the morning, beginning the six hour drive to the Chicago area. We stopped in South Bend, Indiana, to see Notre Dame, (Timothy's favorite college football team). He has always loved the movie Rudy, and it remains his favorite. After our visit, I have a hankering to watch some Rudy myself!

And, yes, James is wearing an Ohio State jersey on the Notre Dame campus! =)

We had lunch at the Legends of Notre Dame restaurant. A really cool place, if you're a Notre Dame fan.

We lingered for a couple hours, soaking in the architecture and the atmosphere, snapping pictures, and browsing the bookstore.

We arrived in Geneva a couple hours behind schedule, spent a moment freshening up in my dad's office located on the second floor of a historical red house with yellow trim, and took the short walk to the train station, through the kind of neighborhood you would read about in a book about a summer romance in a quaint town on the lake.. Much to James' delight, we boarded the train for the hour ride to Chicago.

Downtown Chicago

At Navy Pier

I hear they dye this river green on St. Patty's Day. Wouldn't it be fun to see that?

My Dad, smoking his pipe, walking through Chicago. He has smoked a pipe for as long as I can remember.

The boys and I with my Dad...

After our Chicago visit, we drove to my father's home in Rockford, Illinois. We spent the next few days meeting friends, neighbors, and my dad's wife, Carol's side of the family.

This is my handsome brother Colin. On Friday night, we rode with my dad to Milwaukee to pick him up at the airport.

During my visit, we flipped through photo albums filled with pictures I had never seen before.  Like this one of my dad holding me as a baby. I love this one, because he is wearing a fisherman's sweater. Fisherman sweaters always remind me of my Irish dad.

And this one...both of us so young. 

And my grandparents, who both passed away years ago. 

As I turned the pages of the albums, I reflected on the memories. And, the mystery of time and love...of roots and connections and family. We love the best we can. We do the best we can, being the flawed vessels that we are. God is teaching me about love, gently and patiently...freeing, grace-filled love. Have you ever considered that it is no accident the people God places in our lives? Whoever they are and however they stumbled into our lives, we have the opportunity to love them.

The family we know well, the family we know little of, the friends we share laughter and tears with, our neighbors, even those that drive us crazy and push all of our buttons. Even fleeting meetings with random strangers. Every encounter we have is an opportunity to show love and grace to another soul. What if we lived that way? 

He is teaching me. And, I'm trying to learn...slowly and clumsily, like flawed vessels do.

Put it Away

Over the years, and even most recently, I have heard many of you share that your family and friends were less than supportive of your grief over the loss of your child. We posted on some of the original Walking With You posts about this subject. There are many reasons: maybe they are struggling with their own grief and have difficulty expressing it, or maybe they are uncomfortable and just do not know the right words. Unfortunately that leads many to just act like they don't care, fail to even acknowledge our children, avoid the subject or even avoid us, or worse...speak words that add to the hurt.

I posted a bit about it here:

The Things People Say

Supporting a Grieving Mom

But, for this post, I would like to focus instead on how we can cope with their reactions or lack thereof. While it has been many years since we said good-bye to our Faith, Grace, and Thomas, reading your struggles has made the sting of our family's reaction fresh on my heart this morning. And, before this launches into a finger-pointing, hurt-wallowing session, let me just say that while the memories still come with a sting, I have forgiven those hurts. I now realize that they were doing the best they could. Even if some of them reacted in ways that were hurtful to us, it was done out of lack of knowledge more than malice. God provided support for us in other ways. Over the years, I have learned to lay down my expectations for family. And, sometimes I have had to re-learn this again and again as new hurts arise. Sometimes love requires laying it all down.

That being said, I realize for many of you, the wounds are too fresh for full healing...the hurt still too intense for  relief. It may surprise you to know that I didn't know that I could publicly embrace the memory of my children in the early years of grief. I often felt compelled to put my feelings away to spare the discomfort of others. Sometimes I didn't want to see the expression on their faces as their eyes shifted down and they squirmed uncomfortably when I shared about my children in heaven. I didn't want to seem like the weird mother who thinks she needs to keep bringing up her dead babies, making everyone around me uncomfortable. Yeah...I know....the initial lack of openness seems pretty crazy considering God has placed a passion in my heart to serve in a ministry that honors the lives of these sweet little ones. 

People gave us some ornaments the first year to honor the memory of Faith and Grace, and it seemed at first that many friends reached out. The same month they were born still, another set of twin girls was born in our family. To comfort herself, and because she was genuinely excited about filling her own arms with these grandbabies, my mother threw herself into spending time with them. She had no idea that it felt like a punch in the gut to me when I walked into her house and saw two identical baby girl dresses slung across the chair. She had no idea that I went into the other room and cried, feeling sick when I saw their pictures on her refrigerator. Not that she shouldn't have been embracing the gift of their lives...certainly for them, it was a time to rejoice. But, for me...it was agony. What made it harder is that I could never have shared that with my mom. I don't share this often, because in many ways, my mother was a great support to me in my life. But, there were things about grief she didn't get.

My mother expected me to put my grief away after a time. When a friend of mine had her baby shortly after I lost my girls, mom said: "I know what will make you feel better. We'll go to the baby department and pick up a new outfit and visit your friend."

So, she drug my grief-weary self to the baby department (a place that still brings a twinge of pain to this day), while my wounds were still gaping, and to add insult to injury...a trip to visit my friend's brand new baby...in the hospital. She even made me hold him. It was all I could do to keep the sobs in until I reached the elevator. She looked disappointed by my tears. As if she thought forcing myself to visit the OB floor and hold someone else's baby would magically make me all better.

Other family members said hurtful things, ignored us, never mentioned our children, looked uncomfortable if I did. And, still sometimes look uncomfortable, even now that we have a public ministry. 

And, for years...I put it all away. Stuffing it far down. Hiding my hurt. Keeping the memories and longing to myself. Failing to mention my precious babies. I put it away because it was expected....and because I didn't want to draw attention or make others uncomfortable. It's shameful, really, but I also understand that it's hard to defend yourself in early grief. It's hard to know what you need. It's hard to take the next breath.

Here are a few ideas for survival in those early years:

You may not be strong enough to defend yourself, so find someone who loves you that is able to deflect hurtful comments and situations. 

Know what triggers hurt for you, and do what is necessary to protect yourself. We cannot keep ourselves from every hurtful situation, but when we can it's more than o.k. to do so. If the baby shower is going to be too hard to attend, graciously decline.

Take time as a couple...allow laughter when you can.

Find someone who gets it. This blogging community has been so helpful...even years later...for me and for many others. It helps to know we aren't walking alone. And it helps to know in the early days of grief, that you will not feel this way forever. You will feel joy again.

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Have you ever felt you had to hide your grief and put away all your memories? What are some of the things you found helpful in dealing with others who didn't get it?

Unlikely Blooms ~ Enduring Love

A couple weeks ago, Timothy and I spent the morning with my friend Dawn and her husband Steven, from Marshall Photography. We stood on the golf course as he swung with natural rhythm and posed every once in awhile. Later, we walked down alleys in the midst of midday downtown busyness...alleys with stories untold and chipped paint from years of standing silent. Tim played his guitar as Dawn's camera clicked away, and I stood in awe that my oldest son has grown into a man that can create such beauty as his fingers glide across guitar strings. I was glad he couldn't see my eyes filling with tears under my  big brown leopard-print sunglasses. 

But more on all that later. 

Right now, I wanted to talk about the picture at the top of this post. I snapped it when we were walking down one of the time-worn alleys. God often works in themes, as I've mentioned before. And the lovely white petunia sprouting up from the concrete-covered ground, against the brick building reminded me of one of those recent themes He has been revealing to my heart. 

The kind of love that suffers long and is kind. The kind of love that never fails. The dying to yourself, laying it all down kind of love. The kind of love that always hopes, always endures. The kind of love that is full of gentleness, yet strong and determined enough to push up through concrete and bloom, shining forth beauty and life where there was none.

I have spent some time at the bedside of those in the twilight hours of their earthly lives, watching the valley of the shadow of death pass over. And, there is one thing that is certain. 

All that matters in that moment, is the love we share. 

It isn't the running to and fro, the fretting over schedules and bills, the daily tasks of keeping order, the petty things that drive us crazy, the gray hairs and extra padding  we carry around, the way we are perceived by others, our successes, our failures, our careers or lack of. It isn't a decision weighing on our minds, our checkbook balances, our last names, our abilities, or the size of our waistline. It isn't even the hurts or the arguments. It isn't the words we can't take back or those we left unsaid. 

All that matters...all that remains when we lie stripped of all earthly glory and gray from death's shadow...all that matters is love. 

Nitty gritty, soul laid bare...love. 

Every circumstance in life, no matter how crooked and

 distorted and ugly it appears to be, if it is reacted to in love

 and forgiveness and obedience to Your (God's) will can be 

transformed...." 

From the book: Hinds' Feet on High Places.

That's the kind of love that God wants from us. The kind that blooms despite impossible odds. Transforming, 

redeeming, life-giving, grace-filled love. 

The way that He loves us...the kind of love that never stops and never gives up. The kind of love that covers a 

multitude of wrongs. The kind of love that means we are never separated from Him.

Because of His love, I am like that petunia, growing against all odds in a place I never should have grown. 

The impossible, made possible. Blooming when I should have shriveled and died.

 Living instead. Thriving even. 

Many of you are like that petunia, as well. 

Because of His great, life-giving love.

And, since love is all that matters...

I will be driving to Chicago later this week, with my kids (Tim has to work) to see my father. It has been a few years since we've seen him, and I have never been to his house. While I am, in general, a big chicken when it comes to driving, I made a promise to Tim, myself, our boys, and most of all to the Lord that I would not let another summer pass without making the trip. So, even though Tim is unable to join us due to work demands, after much prayer, we have decided to take a leap and go. After all, God has not given us a spirit of fear! I will also be taking some time to meet with the amazing staff from The Haven Network while we're there. Please keep our travel and the meeting in prayer! 

Warrior Prayers for Our Boys

                                     

I'm always late to the party. But, I wanted to share something really great with all of you. My dear bloggy friend, September is asking moms to join her in committing to praying for our boys for 21 days using the ebook Warrior Prayers, which can be downloaded here. You can also download it for your Kindle on Amazon.

I believe September began the journey a couple days ago, but I just started and caught up (I think). This is a great book, encouraging moms to do the most they can for their boys to help them become godly men: PRAY. And, the technique the author uses is especially effective: praying scripture, something we have done for years in our Moms in Touch prayer groups. This book is full of scripture to pray specifically for boys. I love it!! And highly recommend it. Hope you will click over and read sweet September's blog and join in. It will be well worth your time!

Have a beautiful day! And, don't forget there's still time to enter to win a copy of another great book: Hinds' Feet on High Places.

Time to do Some Rejoicing!!! (Tug Update)

There is a part of me that struggles still with those who are only apt to praise God when prayers are answered in a way we can see with our eyes...when healing takes place on this earth. Not because I think it's wrong to praise God. On the contrary, His praise should be shouted from the rooftops. But, He is to be praised in whatever way our prayers are answered. Praising God has nothing to do with our circumstances or even what He does for us, but everything to do with Who He is! I spent many years repelled at the insinuation that the righteous get their prayers answered always in the ways they hoped...because of their faith, their loved one was physically healed. I learned, of course, that there are all types of healing. Sometimes God heals on this earth. Sometimes He heals by taking us Home to heaven. Sometimes He restores a broken body and sometimes He mends a broken soul. In all of it, He is faithful. In all of it, He is worthy of our praise. And, none of it has to do with our worthiness or a measure of His love for us. I learned a lot about surrendering what I thought healing looked like...surrendering my will as I prayed. Believing and trusting no matter what. It is an interesting walk...knowing that we serve a God who can do anything...heal and restore anything...and trusting His way to do it, even if it isn't the way we hoped or expected.

Many times I have talked about weeping with those who weep...and we do a lot of that here. We weep often for mothers with empty arms, hurting and aching alongside so many as we lift understanding prayers of comfort on their behalf. But, we also embrace the second part of the verse...

Rejoice with those who rejoice...


Ginny and I learned about weeping and rejoicing many years ago, as we both carried children in our wombs. My twin daughters and later our son Thomas were born into the arms of Jesus, and her sweet son came home to fill her house with life.  It was my time to weep and hers to rejoice, and yet she graciously set aside her rejoicing often....to weep with me. I tried to reciprocate, to set aside my weeping and rejoice, but I'm sure my efforts were less successful. In fact, I was barely able to lift my head, let alone fully rejoice with her.

But, today...after spending weeks on our knees on behalf of Ginny's son Tug. After weeping and weeping before the Lord, pleading for the kind of miracle that we can see with our eyes this side of heaven...even as we trust and surrender. Today, we rejoice with all of our might. Today, we dance and sing with tears of joy and laughter on our lips. We rejoice with a family that never stopped praising and trusting...even in this storm.

Tug is not only awake from his coma, but he has been transferred to another hospital where he is having intense rehabilitation. He is working so hard and can now talk, eat, and walk...things that just days ago were not possible for him. And, just to give you a window into this boy's precious heart...one of the things he said in these first days of talking (other than stuff about playing and soccer!):


To his mom: "Thank you for doing everything for me."

Thank you for praying for this family. Thank you for weeping...and for rejoicing with us. Please continue to pray as Tug works toward full recovery.

Our God is an awesome God!!!