Memorial Day 2011 ~ Featuring a Video Performance by One Way

This morning, our band, One Way, had the privilege of performing a couple Patriotic songs following today's Memorial Day Parade, during a special ceremony to honor our veterans. It has long been a tradition in our family to take time to remember those who have paid the ultimate price for our freedom. And, this Memorial Day was no exception.

Here's a partial sampling of the two songs we performed today:

The Battle Hymn of the Republic

America the Beautiful

The memory ran out on my camera! I had a terrible time uploading these videos...so not sure how the quality is going to turn out. But, here's a peek at One Way.

                                

I've shared before that I don't spend a lot of time in the cemetery. And, while that's still true, I did stop there briefly yesterday to leave some red, white, and blue flowers on Faith, Grace, and Thomas' grave...and my mother's too. I didn't want them left out of the Memorial Day festivities this year. Just like we require James and Timothy to honor the veterans by removing their hats and putting their hands over their hearts as the men pass with the flag, the tiny graves of our children brought them honor on this day, as well. It just seemed fitting this year.

Thank you to all who have served this country and fight to protect the freedom we enjoy in this beautiful land. God Bless America!

Riding my Turquoise Bike Past Her House in the Spring...

I love my turquoise bike.

It has what I call a mama bottom seat. You know, a seat made for a mama-sized bottom. Not some tiny uncomfortable contraption.

I had been eyeing it for awhile, looking longingly through the window of our small town hardware store each time I rode by on my hand-me-down ten speed, taken by the way the sun reflected off it's frosty blue goodness.

It was July, several years ago...the week of my birthday...when Tim handed me the money and told me to go get the bike as a present.

The first place I rode my new bike was to my mother's house. She smiled and said that she was just about to do the same thing. She knew how I loved to ride my bike, and how much I had wanted the shiny turquoise bike that had been calling to me from the hardware store window. She bought me a pink backpack, instead...to carry my library books when James and I rode our bikes to get books. Her house was always on my bike route. And, we would often stop there to pet her dog Pebbles, get James a drink (he is always thirsty), and grab some tomatoes from the garden. Even after she went home to heaven, her house remained on our route. We would stop and chat with Grandpa, pet Pebble, and get James a drink.

I still ride my bike, sometimes with James chatting away alongside me, and sometimes on my own. And, her house is still on our bike route.

Only now, it isn't her house anymore, or mine, or the house of my children's grandmother. Someone else has bought my mother's house. Her husband remarried and moved away last summer. Someone else will wash the dishes in the sink that I washed so many dishes in, while listening to the oldies with the summer breeze blowing the scent of lilacs in the windows, and the faint whir of mopeds humming in the distance.

The first bike ride we took this year we went around the reservoir lifting our legs as our bike sped down the muddy hill, life blooming all around as spring awakens from its winter sleep.  Her house came into view. And, I stopped, overwhelmed with the nostalgia washing over me. My eyes settled on the deck Tim built, where I sat on the swing, watching the boys swim in the pool that's no longer there. My throat swelled, and I shook the tears away.

James was with me, and I didn't want to dwell long on the sad. I didn't want to ruin the first bike ride of spring. Still, my heart ached with such longing I could barely breathe.

Last week, I started off on my ride, alone, over the creek bridge, muddy waters rushing fast, full of spring rain. I crossed the bumpy railroad tracks that surround my neighborhood and past the Methodist church, rode around the school, past the pool park and around the ball diamond, remembering the summers when all my friend Nicki and I did was ride around town, waiting for something to happen and dreaming our summer dreams.

I crossed Main Street and Ron's Super Valu, then over more bumpy tracks until I reached her road.

I've mentioned before how each season, the missing washes over me anew. Spring is no exception.

But this year, this year is different.

This year, when I ride past her house, the house where I grew up, I cannot stop and get a water and pet Pebbles.

I road by, drinking in the sight, allowing the ache to fully envelope me. My eyes settled where the flag used to fly so proudly, her rock garden that she and Grandpa proudly laid by hand, the pink stencil she painted on the gas tank.

Her lilac bush, not yet blooming.

And, her clothesline...with the clothespins still clipped to the top. She loved to hang the clothes out to dry in the summer breeze, and was quite dedicated, even tromping out in the mud in her snow boots.

That did it. The tears spilled over, and my chest heaved, as I pedalled away from the memories, the hurt, and the missing. Or I tried, but it followed me. It followed me as I rode over the bridge where the wildflowers bloom tall in the summer and past the field still muddy with spring, over the tracks again and around the reservoir hill. Still...I pedalled my turquoise bike, tears streaming, chest heaving.

By the time I rounded the corner of my road and pulled into my stone driveway, the tears were dry.

I rolled the turquoise bike into the garage, hugged my husband, and started supper for my family.

Time marches on, and the missing washes over me anew each season. It probably always will. Even more reason to make memories with those we love. Even more reason to soak in the gift of right now, with a grateful heart. Even more reason to cling to Jesus, and not the fleeting things of this world.

For, no season on this earth lasts forever.

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A Blessed Easter to you and yours....love and prayers for those missing someone during this spring season of hope and renewal.

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. And whoever lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?” John 11:25-26

The Drive

Giveaway has now closed. Winners have been announced. You may still leave a comment, but it will not count toward the giveaway. Thank you! =)

Tuesday evening, I took a drive.

Not just any drive...the drive.

I've been meaning to take that drive for a couple years, considering the idea of soaking in every whisper of the memories from four years ago when I drove that path many times from home to you.

It's the road that takes me to the place where you took your last breath on this earth. This week, before the anniversary of your passing, boasts all of the beauty of Earth's splendor...nature's last hoorah before the dark cold winter...God's artwork. And in a way, maybe only to me, a send-off celebration...a beautiful goodbye to you. That's what it felt like when I drove that path over and over again four years ago. The glorious celebration of color, such a contrast to the darkness of death's sting surrounding you.

I didn't miss the contrast then. And, I didn't miss it on Tuesday's drive.



As I approached the turn, I let my eyes wander to the house that always let me know the turn was approaching. It looked like a peaceful place to live, I thought. I remembered how I noticed it one last time four years ago, the dark night I drove home telling people the news that your battle was over, and you had gone home.



As I made the turn, I felt the weight in my chest and the catch in my breath. I opened the sunroof, so that I could allow every nuance of this drive to soak itself into my senses. I wanted to breathe it all in, deeply. I didn't fight the memories...the flashes. I let them wash over me, as I gazed at the magnificent beauty before me.








The name of a housing development...The Sanctuary did not go unnoticed. I turned up Jim Croche's "I've Got a Name" and drove on with a smile. Feeling entangled and free all at the same time. Letting the weeping and rejoicing dance their dances over and through me, I lived each memory of laughing with you and crying with you...fighting with you, hurting with you. I smiled as I thought of your spirit...how every time we drive on a hilly road, I accelerate at just the right point so that we can fully experience one of life's great gifts...the "belly getter" just like you used to. My kids love it as much as I always did. As I parent a teenager, I am acutely aware of all the time I spent fighting the wrong fight for the wrong reasons. And, all the fighting I watched you do most of your life, even in the end. I thought of how you sopped up every inch of joy in every moment life offered you...even making us laugh as your body failed. Your spirit never did.



I looked up through the sunroof as I drove through what could only be described as a tunnel of autumn splendor. The leaves surrounded me forming their own blanket, a sanctuary, if you will. I drove on...to the place where I last heard your voice.

I turned into the driveway and the memories pushed their way into my psyche with such force, they ran into and overlapped each other in their efforts to be remembered. I remembered all at once the day we brought you here...the day I collapsed in exhausted delirium, the day I returned after a rest, and the day I left after four weeks of watching you suffer more than I thought was humanly possible.

I entered the building to use the restroom, walking past two women, who were there to visit a loved one, waiting in this place where people go to die. The door was locked and a hospice nurse approached me to lead me to another restroom. She led me down your hallway, past the chairs where we contemplated decisions, conditions, breathing patterns, and what to eat for dinner. Past your room, where we slept and listened to my brother's stories and the rhythm of your breathing. The memories coming at such rapid fire speed, I staggered into the bathroom and felt the eruption of emotion...wondering for a moment why I made this drive. I let the emotion come, and made my way outside to the beautiful ponds and the serene path I walked so many times.



I remember walking this path to let out my anger, to cry, to pray, to refuel, to look at something beautiful and alive for a few minutes. I walked it with my kids, walked it while pushing your big hospice bed around the bricks and listening to your snarky humor as you tried to keep my huge sunglasses on your face. I watched James feed the ducks and marvelled at how intertwined beginnings and endings are as life and death weave their way through our days. I remember reading each brick, the names of those who have gone before us...feeling somehow less alone and realizing once more the precious gift of life each of us is given.




As I opened the doors that led to the path of serenity, I heard a group of ladies in the lobby begin to sing what might have been a hymn. The emotions were swarming my senses with such fury, I'm not sure. Suddenly, the doors closed behind me and all I could hear was the sound of the fountains.


Oh, Lord...will you meet me here again? I felt my feet hit the bricks. My eyes scanned the names through the tears. The cool air filling my nostrils and breathing deep into my lungs. I crossed the bridge to a little clearing with a bench. I sat down and soaked it all in for a moment as the peace settled over me like a soothing balm. The fountains sprinkled, the crickets chirped, and I began to read scripture aloud, letting the words join the melody of peace soothing my weary soul. As if the Lord whispered through His comforting words of peace and truth..."I've got her, I've got you. I am here." I prayed a little, wept a little, and let the Lord hold me a little in the place where you breathed your last breath on this earth. Then I stopped to read one last brick, leaning down to wipe my hands over the name of a treasured life...a beautiful soul that once walked this earth and now brightens heaven with her exuberance.




As I got into the car to drive home, I saw an ambulance bringing someone in. I sighed with a heavy heart, and left the place where people go to die. On the way home, I talked with my "in real life" Lynette and she mentioned a story someone shared where the hospice wing was referred to as the "birthing rooms". Perhaps in light of that, it would be better to say it is a place where people go to live...eternally that is.

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If you are new to this site, this post is about my sweet mom who passed away four years ago on October 20th after a very difficult battle with cancer. She was just fifty years old. I miss her dearly...

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Giveaway is closed....winner has been announced!

I know this is a long post...and if you're still hanging in, I'd love to share today's giveaway with you. We are offering a free copy of Mary Beth Chapman's book, Choosing to SEE, to one commenter on this post. Anyone can enter and leave a comment. You do not have to be a grieving parent (as is the focus of the rest of the giveaways this week...which you may also wish to check out!) No matter what we are facing in this life, it is always good to choose to SEE the Lord working through it all.

Blessings...

The Passing of Time and Some Upcoming Events...Yes, it's a Hodge Podge

October has arrived, and I realize I've been a little absent in blog land. Truth be told, I've been soaking in every minute of my oldest son's high school golf season. Yes, in the grand scheme of eternity...not the most spiritual of matters. But, the heart of a mother learns to love what her children love. Their passions become our passions. When something means the world to them, it means the world to us. While it's certainly important to keep an eternal perspective, it is also a worthy thing to soak in the time we have with our children and let them know how much they matter to us. It isn't really hard to do. I love watching my children soar with the gifts and abilities that God has given them. And, I know my time following my oldest son on the golf course is growing short, as he just finished the golf season of his junior year. I won't lie. It is one of my favorite things to do. Watching him swing that club, surrounded by the most splendid display of earth's beauty. So, forgive me if I seem a little less focused from August to October. I am soaking it in, and time with my children is fleeting.

I marvel at the way time passes. Here we are in the midst of another autumn shrouded in memories. This is the time I usually relive the last moments of my mother's life, mixed in with the memories of Faith and Grace. It is generally commemorated with sleepless nights, flashbacks, and an agony of missing as my body relives those last weeks...even while my mind resists. This year has been a little different. The flashes are there, as I walk on to the soccer field and remember "the phone call"...and other times that bring the memories back. But, the passing of time is a force of it's own to be reckoned with. This year, there are so many current good-byes looming that the past good-byes are being pushed aside to make room. They are still there, of course...just shifting. I suppose this life is a string of good-byes...with a few hellos along the way.

My mother's house is for sale/rent. The house where I...in true teenage diva form... argued with my mom, while getting ready for my first Homecoming and my last. (I will be taking pictures of my son and his girl later today, as he prepares for his next-to-last Homecoming.) Last Sunday, I had to go and get some of Mom's things out of the house, so that someone else can move in...a trip I've been putting off. It is a strange feeling...going through the personal belongings of one that you love, realizing that the things we cling to in this life, really do not matter. We are just passing through, and the only things we can take with us to heaven are the people whose lives we touch by sharing the love of Jesus. I know this may not be a popular or uplifting thought to some. But, it is true. And the tangible knowledge of this truth is really working it's way into my heart.

While we were there, I tried not to remember all the Christmas mornings we laughed together in the front room, the times I checked my reflection in the full length closet mirror before a date, laughing on the edge of my bed with my best friend Nicki, swimming in the back yard pool back when I could still swim faster than my little brothers, laughing with my own kids in the same pool. My heart aches with the memories. But, as we loaded her items into our truck, I willed my heart to be numb and shook each memory from my mind, even as I felt them squeezing my heart.

I remember the first time I walked through mom's house alone after she passed. It struck me, all the little touches of "her". A woman's house is filled with her touches....she pours her heart into making her home a lovely haven. And, her signature is all over it. I never once walked into her house, since she has gone home to heaven, and didn't for just a moment expect to see her laying on her beloved couch...followed by the heart breaking disappointment that she wasn't there, that she would never be there again. And, now...it is likely that I will never walk into that house again. It may seem silly, but sometimes when her house was still there...it was as if a piece of her was still with us. I'm still sorting through the emotion of the idea that someone else will be in my mother's house...that when we go on a bike ride and check on her lilac bush, it will no longer be her lilac bush. Every rock that she and my grandfather placed in the landscaping around her house...and the mailbox she was so proud of...no longer hers. The driveway where she swung me in the air with joy as I told her I was expecting twins. Someone else's car will be parked there. Why does it feel like I'm saying goodbye all over again?

And, why do I feel the strong sense that we are just passing through...that the things I treasure (actually there are few earthly "things" that I treasure) will someday, at best be just a faint reminder that I once walked this earth...and at worst a burden of clutter to my children who will wonder what to do with it all...and most likely a little of both? Maybe this is why I'm not inclined to be a collector of things...and now even less so.

O.K....enough of my cleansing melancholy....so sorry to have taken you all there. God is working it all out in my heart...it's just fresh right now, and working through these matters takes time. The nitty gritty stuff of life is not something we can tie into a neat bow and wrap up in a little blog post.

So...in other news...

For those that are not local, please pray for the upcoming Sufficient Grace events...

And, for those that are local, please consider attending and/or supporting this month's festivities.

October 5th ~ Speaking at Napoleon Church of the Nazarene Women's Ministry

I will be sharing our family's journey of God's sufficient grace and presenting about Sufficient Grace Ministries at the Napoleon Church of the Nazarene on Tuesday October 5, 2010 at 6:30pm. All ladies are invited. I believe there is a small entry fee (just a few dollars). Come for an evening of encouragement, food, and some fun thrown in, as well!

Fundraiser hosted by the Napoleon Church of the Nazarene Women's Ministry

The Napoleon Church of the Nazarene is hosting a fundraiser to support the Food Pantry and Sufficient Grace Ministries. On October 15th and 16th, a photographer will be doing children's photo sessions. The pictures will be antique black and white with a splash of color. Special, fun antique clothing is provided for kids up to age 16. Cost is only $10 and you get a coupon for a free 10 x 13. You may order more pictures, but you are under no obligation to do so. You may sign up with either Kelly Gerken or Teresa Brown by October 9th. Times available are 10am-8:15m both days. List several options when you sign up so that we can find a time that works for you. This sounds like a fun way to get adorable pictures of your children and support two wonderful local ministries. I hope to see you there!

Please email me if you have questions.

I will be announcing some upcoming events to commemorate Pregnancy Loss/Remembrance Month soon. Also, please take a few minutes to encourage and pray for this week's Walking With You mamas. Thank you so much for those of you who are still reading!

Love to all...

Goodbye Summer...It's Been a Great Ride

School is underway, which also means that I am back to work. Adjusting to a new schedule and routine is not one of my strengths, I'll admit. While I most certainly enjoy and appreciate my job working with special needs students at the elementary school, it is hard to let go of the sweet freedom and light-hearted fun of summer. My boys are also lovers of the good times of summer, which leaves the three of us in serious "transition mode". No more afternoon naps, impromptu swims at Grandmas, running barefoot with the neighbor boy (James...not me!), late morning snacks, reading on a blanket in the yard after an afternoon bike ride to the library....sigh. It's so hard to say good-bye to three months of Saturdays and the sweetness of summer. Until next year...that is.

So...please bear with me, if it seems like I'm slacking a little right now. A couple more balls have been thrown into our juggling act, and it may take us a little bit to get our balance and rhythm!

Since I'm kind of missing summer, it seems a few summer-reminiscent pictures are in order!

James did an awesome job on his first canoe trip...





The Tims...who definitely had the upper hand in our splash fight!





My friend, Tracy and I in front of The Gerken "Cozy Cabin"...




James with Tracy's son Aidan thoroughly enjoying the bunk bed...


Not pictured is the infamous go-kart wreck between both Tims and James. They were laughing so hard in the pics, but they are dark and somewhat blurry. So I wasn't able to share them here. It was such a great time of refreshment and fun for our family, though. Much needed!

A taste of my favorite place...




When I step on to the golf course, I feel the peace and serenity wash over me. The beauty never fails to catch my breath as I stand atop the hill and behold the shades of green, inhaling the fresh air, feeling the breeze caress my cheek...inviting me to stay awhile. I am captivated by the pristine surroundings...drawn in to drink of the splendor as I leave behind the cares of this world for just a little while.

Golf isn't over, of course...even though the lazy pace of summer has passed for another year. Many afternoons, you can find me here, cheering on the golf team and soaking in the serenity of my favorite place. I am enjoying watching Timothy as high school golf season is well on its way...


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We ended the summer with a performance by our band, One Way, at the Corn City Festival last weekend. Unfortunately, it rained...and rained...and rained some more. Other than a few die hard fans (consisting of mostly family and a few good friends...as well as some passerby who huddled under tents and shelter houses to listen...) our crowd was pretty small. We still had a really great time, and it seemed to be a blessing to those who did brave the conditions to come out. I really love the boys from One Way (especially the guitar player...He's pretty cute!), and I'm so grateful for all the time they put into preparing for our little performances. It's such a blessing, and also a lot of fun to serve the Lord with these dear friends.

Singing in the rain...





I wish I had some pictures to share of James with his friend, Clayton. They didn't let the rain slow them down a bit. They took off their shoes and rode the blow up rides, running barefoot in the rain and sliding gleefully down the slides as if they were the only children at a water park! Never mind if it rains on your parade...just let the rain become part of the celebration! They certainly did... =)

O.K....that's enough summer memories for now...sniff. Just wanted to leave you with a reminder that we are still featuring blogs and stories of grieving moms on Walking With You each Monday. Please take some time on Mondays to encourage and pray for these families. (The post is usually up by late in the day Monday...you know...I'm juggling!)

Twelve Years in Heaven and a Sweet Release

(Thank you, Crystal, for remembering our sweet Thomas with the cupcake above!)


It has been twelve years since I held you in my arms, sweet Thomas...

There are so many things I wish I could tell you, so much I wish I could have done with the short time we were given...

I cannot believe how much a heart can ache for someone who was only here for nine months (in the womb) and six hours in my arms (part of the time, anyway)....

As you know, most of the time, I avoid the cemetery...you know I'd much rather think of you in heaven, where you truly are...safe in the arms of Jesus. The cemetery is a place I'd rather forget. It brings me no comfort.

And, yet...today, it seemed like we should go...

Sometimes years have passed without my feet stepping onto the sacred ground where countless tears have spilled...

But, today we went.




Today, I was surprised by the severity of the pain bubbling up between us, the ache of all that was missing swelling around our hearts as we held each other beside your grave...

Today, we remembered every part of what we are missing.

I meant to only celebrate your life, the gift and preciousness of you...

The promise of our forever reunion...

The hope we have in Jesus.

I meant for it to be a day like many others, full of light-hearted joy.

But it wasn't.

I've watched others do so many things to celebrate the lives of their babies...beautiful, wonderful, life-honoring things.

Things that I never did...

Some years we made a birthday cake, or cupcakes, or Ginny's cookies and quietly sang happy birthday. Our celebrations or remembrances were private...and we have always been protective of those sacred memories. Many years, we silently remembered or mentioned the day briefly. Of course we have never forgotten...we will never forget.

But, I never released balloons or anything grand and lovely.

Today, I decided it wasn't too late to honor every year that passed without a balloon release. So, I ordered twelve baby blue balloons for you, sweet boy...one for each year you have spent in heaven's glory.



We attached messages to you...birthday wishes...words of love...bible verses...

And, we sent them up toward heaven...along with the dreams in our hearts...




We all released balloons... but I won't be posting all the pictures...some things are still sacred and private.

Today was filled with memories, regrets, beauty from ashes, gratefulness, celebration of your life, and the comfort of the enduring love that carries this family...

Today was filled with sweet release...





As we watched the balloons floating up toward heaven, we remembered not only the beautiful boy we have been missing since you left our arms twelve years ago...but the love that came straight from heaven...the same love that will carry us home one day...the same love that carried you home twelve years ago...

The light of hope shone through the clouds...as it always does.

The hope of heaven...



The promise that we believe...even when we don't see...and we will keep on believing...and dreaming our dreams of you, until we see you and hold you again some sweet day...

Jesus said to him, “Thomas, because you have seen Me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
~ John 20:29

We love you, Thomas! Happy Birthday...and thank you for the gift of you...

Birthdays, Memories and Missing

Today, it's my birthday...

Today, I welcome (not sure if welcome is the word...maybe "powerless to stop it" - haha) my mid-thirties.

Today, I was awakened with a memory of a birthday twelve years ago.

It was a Sunday morning, and I wore my favorite peach and white gingham maternity dress with the white daisies trimming the flattering empire waist. It was my birthday, and I wanted to look pretty as I readied myself for church. I rubbed my hand protectively over my full-term pregnant belly that was more like the size of my typical seven-month pregnant belly. I touched my tummy again as I sang the worship songs, aware that our time together was coming too quickly to an end.

I was scheduled to be induced on Monday morning (July 13th), and we would finally meet our Thomas face to face. Of course, I felt as if I knew him already. I had carried him within my womb, sung to him, prayed over him, and talked to him for nine sweet, heart-wrenching months, four of which I knew, that short of a miracle, I would be saying good-bye to my sweet boy on the day I met him. How I longed to look into his face, to hold him in my aching arms, arms that had been aching for his sisters since they went home to heaven less than two years before.

But, Sunday was my birthday, so Tim decided to celebrate by taking Timothy and I out to Pizza Hut. (Yep, we're fancy like that!) There were so many emotions going through my mind, weighing on my weary heart, I wasn't sure if I even wanted to go anywhere. I tried to back out, not really feeling like celebrating. Tim, who isn't generally one for going out to eat (at all!), insisted that it was my birthday and we were going out! Looking back, that should have been a clue that something was up, but I was a little preoccupied, so it went unnoticed.

I didn't know what to wear, and became a little whiny, as I can sometimes get when it's hot and I'm pregnant and a thousand things are pulling on my fragile emotions. Tim told me that I should just wear what I had on...that my dress looked pretty. I shrugged, knowing that I was a little over-dressed for Pizza Hut, but too ambivalent to care.

He pulled into my friend Dinah's house, claiming he had to drop something off on our way. I shrugged again and followed him inside. Normally, I loved a visit to Dinah's house. She has the gift of hospitality, and can make anyone feel like a welcome old friend the minute they enter her lovely home. She has made her home a haven and always has something yummy to offer your taste buds, too...which helps, of course.

When we opened the door, several of my close friends were already gathered awaiting our arrival. SURPRISE! They had decided to throw me a surprise party...something I don't think has ever happened in my life before or since that day. It truly touched my heart, although I was suddenly a little embarrassed to be so over-dressed in my church clothes! My precious friends gathered together in one place to spend that day with us....what a sweet gift. Part of the time we talked a little about what was to come, and part of it, we spent laughing and steering clear of what was looming ahead. I can't remember everything...but I do remember the sweetness of that day, and the thoughtfulness of their gift...how precious it was to have them walk with us that day, and show such love on my birthday.

I was induced that Monday, and after a long, unpleasant labor our Thomas Patrick was born the next day...on July 14th.

I suppose birthdays are a good time for memories to wash over our hearts and fill our minds...

The other memories tugging at my heart this morning are those of my mother. For some reason, I miss my mom so desperately on my birthday every year since she passed...even more so than her own birthday. I suppose it's because no one loves you like your mom, or can make your birthday special like your mom. Even when I was a grown-up, mom always made sure I had a birthday cake...because, you know when you're the mom...no one else makes you a birthday cake. Except maybe your own mom! It was always chocolate. She loved to make birthdays and Christmas special...always wanted for the people in her life to know that they were loved and treasured.

I vaguely remember celebrating one of my birthdays at our favorite vacation spot, camping at the Mohican. Maybe it was my twelfth birthday...I'm not sure, but I do remember a really short haircut, some major pre-teen awkwardness, and some bright "jammers". That...and, of course, there was chocolate cake! We are planning a trip there as a family soon, and I can't wait. James has never been canoeing, and Timothy was there only once when he was much younger. Mom always loved it there, and somehow doing things she loved makes me feel closer to her.

Well...that's it. I'm entering my mid-thirties this morning with a mixture of missing those I love who are in heaven and gratefulness for those I love who are in my life on this earth, praising the God of my life whose love knows no bounds and whose grace covers all my longings. For as much as I am "missing" this morning, my heart and my cup still overflow with the blessings of a beautiful family, amazing friends, and precious memories...those that have already been made...and those yet to come. In all of it, my Father is faithful.

Who knows, before the day is done there may even be some chocolate cake...even if I have to make or...ahem...buy it myself!

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Please take some time this week to visit our new featured blogger on Walking With You, and show her some love. An encouraging comment means so much to a grieving heart. Thanks so much to those of you who visited last week's featured blogger.

Doritos and Red Pop

When I was a little girl, I spent a lot of time with my grandparents. They were always doing something fun...snowmobiling in the winter, fishing and camping in the summer. I loved their house in the country, surrounded with trees and an expansive yard full of birds and squirrels and other critters. I loved the huge family room, with the folding doors and brown and orange carpet, the old-school brick fireplace. I would curl up in Grandpa's recliner, snuggled into his lap and asking for the candy in his pockets. (I called him Pockets because of this! Even then, he knew the way to my heart!) We would watch Love Boat and Fantasy Island (you know..."De plane, de plane!) I loved the speckled counter-covered breakfast nook where Grandma would serve strawberries with sugar...and sometimes whipped cream. Loved the seventies green carpet in the front room. I was heart broken when they sold that house and moved to town.

Sigh...everything always changes.

Grandma and Grandpa had a camper at the lake. There was Chet's, where we went to the restroom in a place Grandma unaffectionately called "The Pits". That's exactly what they were...and you prayed you would not fall in. Shuddering at this memory...

O.K....moving on...

We would load up the blue and white boat, with all of our gear and snacks. I don't remember worrying about sunscreen or any of that. One thing was certain, once you went out on the boat, you were gone for the day. Grandma and Grandpa were serious about fishing and didn't come in until reaching their limit. What I remember the most about those hours on the boat is the taste of Doritos and Red Pop. My mother rarely purchased junk food...whether because of the expense or because she was very weight conscious. Probably a little of both. But, when we went on the boat, I relished the Doritos and Red Pop. I can remember the rocking back and forth rhythm as the boat floated along, I remember the wind and splashes of water as we crashed down over the waves speeding along to another fishing spot. I remember the triumph when I caught a Walleye. You wanted a Walleye or perch...never Sheephead. Grandma had another name for those, but I won't share it here! I would fish a little, play a little, nap a little, and would munch on Doritos and Red Pop. I'm sure there was other food, too. But, those are the two that felt like a special treat to me, and they still taste like summer.

Although, if you read this blog, you already know about my love affair with Doritos (I never met a Dorito I didn't like!), the sweet carbonated goodness of Red Pop hasn't graced my taste buds in years. But, this week, I bought some. I hesitated, wondering if my grown up taste buds (and digestive system) could handle it. Would it still be as good as I remember? I closed my eyes and washed down a few Doritos with a gulp of Red Pop. I smiled and nodded with satisfaction...it still tasted like summer. For a few minutes, I was seven and rocking along on Grandma and Grandpa's boat with the faint smell of lake and fish in the air and the sun on my face.

Sometimes, I long for simple times like that when all of life seemed filled with possibilities and everything was still ahead of me. There was nothing more required of me than to fish off the side of the boat and curl up in the lap of my Grandpa. Perhaps that is why the bible encourages us to have faith like a child. Nothing more is required of us than to follow our heavenly Father where He leads. And, to curl up into His lap when we are tired. Maybe it really is still that simple.

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P.S. It's not too late to enter the Mother's Day giveaway to win one of three copies of the book I Will Carry You. Also, please help us spread the word about Operation Support Sufficient Grace 2010!

Remembering At Christmas

CONTEST IS OVER!!! WINNERS WILL BE ANNOUNCED SOON! You are still welcome to comment and/or link your memories here until Christmas. Thank you so much to those who participated.

UPDATED PRAYER REQUEST: Please pray for the Henninger Family. Kimberly's firstborn son, Hudson was born still at 30 weeks. They are now expecting again(10wks.), and facing another possible difficult pregnancy diagnosis.

If you are missing someone you love this Christmas, someone of ANY age who is spending Christmas with Jesus this year, I hope you will join us on this very special Walking With You. We are sharing our Christmas memories and the ways that we remember our loved ones who have gone home to heaven at Christmas time. If you do not have a blog or do not wish to link a post, you may leave your Christmas memories in the comments below. If you do a post on your blog, come back and link up on the MckLinky following this post.

Everyone who participates and/or leaves a comment on this post, will be eligible to win our Christmas Memory Giveaway. For grieving moms, we are giving a copy of the amazing Beauty Will Rise CD, a copy of the book Mommy Please Don't Cry, and a beautiful Creations from the Heart memorial bracelet (available exclusively from Sufficient Grace Ministries)...so three different moms are eligible to win. There are also three eligible prizes that could be for someone who has experienced loss at any age: a copy of the CD Beauty Will Rise (because I think it would comfort ANY grieving heart), the book Someday Heaven, and a Merry Christmas From Heaven ornament (if the ornament arrives in time...otherwise, I may have to replace with another memorial ornament).Each person gets one prize...so 6 people will win!

How to enter:
1. Leave a comment on this post.
2. Participate by linking a post (this gives an additional entry)
3. An additional entry will be given for every comment left on the posts that link up on our MckLinky.(I will be visiting the blogs who link with this post and tallying comments left. You must comment here to enter first, though so I know you would like to be included.)

I am Spending Christmas With Jesus Christ This Year

I see the countless Christmas trees,
Around the world below,
With tiny lights like Heaven's stars
Reflecting on the snow.

The sight is so spectacular,
Please wipe away that tear,
For I am spending Christmas
With Jesus Christ this year!

I hear the many Christmas songs
That people hold so dear,
But the sounds of music can't compare
With Heaven's Choir up here.

I have no words to tell you
The joy their voices bring,
For it's far beyond description
Just to hear the angels sing!

I know how much you miss me,
I see the pain inside your heart,
But I'm not so very far away;
We're really not apart.

So be happy for me, Dear Ones,
You know I hold you dear
And be glad I'm spending Christmas
With Jesus Christ this year!

I send you each a special gift
From my Heavenly home above.
I send you each a memory
Of my undying love!

After all, Love is The Gift
More precious than pure gold.
It was always most important
In the stories Jesus told.

Please love and keep each other,
As my Father said to do,
For I can't count the blessings
Or the love He has for you!

So have a Merry Christmas,
And wipe away that tear,
Remember ...
I am spending Christmas
With Jesus Christ this year!

~ author unknown ~



I love the poem above. Such a beautiful message that seems to come straight from heaven. Although we are here missing our sweet babies and others we love, they are spending Christmas in all of heaven's splendor with the very King we celebrate during this season of hope. And because He came, we have great hope.

How do we remember our babies (Faith, Grace, and Thomas) who are in heaven?

Each year, we fill three shoeboxes with gifts for Operation Christmas Child, which we then donate to the pile of boxes collected by our church for their annual donation. We fill two little girl boxes in memory of Faith and Grace and one little boy box in memory of our Thomas. It is a small thing, but it blesses me to be able to buy some little gifts in their memory and give them to another child in hopes that it will bring some joy. It is something tangible we can do to remember them every year.

Christmas ornaments hold so many memories. Every year, we take them out and remember when our children made this or that, we remember where and why we bought this one, and think about what each one signifies. They sort of tell the story of our families. During the early years after our babies went Home, there were ornaments chosen in memory of each child. Faith and Grace were born still so close to Christmas (November 3rd) that we received many ornaments in their memory. Here are a few of my favorites, in no particular order.

Thomas' gold angel and his ornament with his name. Although, I probably wouldn't have called him Tom. After doing this post, I decided we needed to add some better ornaments for Thomas.



We were going to do a Noah's Ark theme for Faith and Grace's nursery. A dear friend, and the mother of my best friend from high school gave us this ornament the first Christmas we spent without our little girls.



Not long after Faith and Grace went Home, our sweet baby cousin (about 18 mos.), Corbin also went Home after complications from a congenital heart defect. His mommy and daddy gave us this ornament. Another friend also gave us the same one. We love them both.


Amazingly, there seemed to be many of the twin angel ornaments that year...or maybe it was just that we noticed them for the first time. The parents of two little girls from my home daycare gave us this musical ornament.




Mom and I searched endlessly for two ornaments that really captured the spirit of our little girls that first year. I fell in love with these two little girls swinging on swings and playing their harps in heaven.




O.K....I'm having mommy guilt that the girls have so many. Poor Thomas...I will be doing some shopping for his ornament this Christmas. (Glad there's no mommy-guilt in heaven!)

Now on to my mama who is probably decorating her corner of heaven as we speak (blog). She loved Christmas...yes, I know I've already told you that a thousand times. Her tea sets are all over my house. She loved those,too. Below is an ornament that was given to me by my friend, Stacie, after mom's passing. It is filled with dried flowers from her funeral.



Prior to mom's last Christmas with us, I went over to her house and put up her Christmas tree. She laid on the couch just beside me as I took out each ornament. We shared the memory wrapped in each one and laughed as we remembered the stories behind them. Mom loved to make things, and every year, she would have a new hand made item (or items) to add to the tree. Every year had a theme. It was like watching the story of her life. That's what a Christmas tree should be. Now, several of those ornaments grace my tree... they are part of my story.

There was the year of the hand-painted wooden ornaments...


The year of the clothespin angels...


The first ornaments that graced her tree back in the seventies (can't you tell?)...


The beginning of the mauve years...


One of my personal favorites...macaroni angel...oh yeah...you can make an angel out of anything!


The cross stitch frame that mom gave to my brother's fourth grade teacher (who was also my fourth grade teacher) many moons ago. The Christmas before last, that same teacher who is now my co-worker, gave it to me for Christmas. She said it had been part of her Christmas decorations every year and she wanted me to have it. It was like receiving a piece of my mom. Every little piece means so much.


This ornament must have also been part of the year of the cross stitch...


This was one of the purchases from the Mauve-lovin' Hills store shopping trip...


The year of the ceramics...oh my lands, how she loved the ceramic store when it was still here. She was a ceramic-painting fool...and pretty good at it, too...


My Angel topper...she bought it for me on one of our famous pre-Christmas shopping trips...


From Because He Came by Kelly Gerken...

More than two thousand years ago, the world ached for salvation, swelled with yearning for deliverance, redemption, restoration...for a Savior to rescue from sin and death. And He came...a baby King, born in a lowly stable on a quiet night to a peasant girl and her betrothed...a carpenter. He was in the still, small voice when He whispered past Elijah. And He was in the quiet stable birth when He came to rescue us and sent His angels to tell the lowly shepherds the good news.

His name is Jesus...and He came for me.

His name is Jesus...and He came for you.

And Because He came...there is hope for tomorrow and a promise of a joyful, forever reunion. He will wipe away all of the tears and wash away the loss and regret. He will cleanse and forgive and clothe us in robes of white. The empty arms will be filled. The hungry hearts will be fed. Brokenness will be restored. Mourning will be turned to dancing. And sin and death will be no more.

Because He came...He will carry us through this life.

And because He came...He will come again...in all His glory...to take us home.

© Kelly Gerken, Sufficient Grace Ministries 2008-2009

Thanks for letting me share some of my Christmas memories of my loved ones in heaven. I look forward to reading all of your memories, and pray that you will find comfort and hope in the truth that He came for you, as you remember this Christmas season.

(For some reason, my spell check isn't working tonight, so please forgive any spelling errors...it's a little late and I'm tired. =)