Remember With Us ~ October 15th (And a My Forever Child Giveaway!)

For the last couple years on October 15th, we honored and prayed for many families who lost a baby or child. And, I would like to do it again this year. I hope you will join us. Here is an excerpt from last year's post:

October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I have met so many beautiful families through Walking With You, this blog, and through Sufficient Grace Ministries. Your stories have touched my heart, and I want to remember each one of your precious babies. Every life is precious in the eyes of the Lord. Every life has value and purpose. While I have prayed for everyone who has crossed my path, it would be nice to have a list to pray for all in one place...with names and birth dates (and heavenly home-going dates). I thought it would be special for us to compile a list of our precious babies and post it here on October 15th. So, if you are a mother who has lost a baby/child and would like to include your family on our list, please leave your information in the comments below or email it to me at sufficientgraceministries@gmail.com. If your information is on last year's list, please note I will be including those previously listed and just adding any new names and re-posting the list. 

Even if we've never met (in real life or blog land!), you are welcome to participate. We want to remember all of the precious babies and their families. On that special day, I will post the list here and pray throughout the day for each of you...as we remember together. If you would like to help us spread the word on your blog so that we could include more families, please feel free! If you would like to include your child on the October 15th Remembrance Page, please leave the following in the comments below (on this post):

Child's Name
Parents Name
Birth Date
Entered Heaven:
Any message you may wish to share...or bible verse that brings you comfort


Also...if you are a grieving parent, and new to our site, please visit the Dreams of You Shop. If you would like a Dreams of You Memory Book or Comfort Bear, please email the shipping address listed on that page. We do not charge parents for our products or services. It is our desire and prayer to offer comfort and hope to every family who crosses our path.


*We would also like to bless a mama with a $50 gift certificate from My Forever Child!! So, if you would like to enter to win the gift certificate, please mention that you want to be included in your comment. 

Where is God in all This Mess?

Suffering is everywhere. Grief, loss, brokenness. Everywhere. Everyday.

Everyday, I meet or read about a mother who has lost her child. My inbox is full of mothers waiting for SGM shipments to honor the memory of these precious lives.

A couple days ago, one of my best friends (mommy to baby Sawyer), kissed her sweet boy and sent him off to the operating room where he endured his second open heart surgery. He is a little more than one year old. He is full of life and joy, seemingly unaware of the precarious way he entered this world and ridiculously resilient although he has been poked and prodded by various physicians throughout his brief time on planet earth. (The surgery went well, and sweet Sawyer is recovering...please keep him in your prayers.)

This week, after one of the plethora of high school golf matches that fill my afternoons, I sat for a couple hours talking with another dear friend and co-worker, mother to my son's best friend. Her husband was a co-worker of mine, an amazing father to her three boys (the youngest a senior), a beloved girls' basketball coach, and a devoted member of our community. The fourth anniversary of his sudden death is approaching. We spoke of the missing...of the reconciling how God could let this happen...and why. I couldn't shake the image of my beautiful friend sitting in the church pew with her three boys beside her and his casket in the front of the church. I have often thought of the grief I have walked through, and the times Tim has held me up when I couldn't stand...held me when I woke up sobbing...covered for me when I couldn't leave my bedroom...held my hand and led me when I couldn't see where to walk. My friend has walked where I have not. Grief I have known, but grief without him...I dare not even speak of it. It's the kind none of us want to know, and yet she walks this path...bravely and beautifully. The world keeps turning...the sun rises and sets. She goes to work everyday, and loves her boys, and aches for the love of her life.

A student is watching his father bravely battle cancer.

Another boy I know loves the color pink, because his mother is fighting cancer...for at least the third time. His grandfather is currently in the hospital...not doing well.

There are other children...who come to school with hurts we cannot imagine. Everyday.

And, the world keeps turning. The sun rises and sets.

The question hangs in the air. It's the one I struggle to answer when face to face with such grief. The one that won't tolerate some well-thought out response with flowery prose. The one that looks skeptically at the scriptures that promise comfort and peace. It's the one I don't have an answer to...at least not a worthy answer.

Where is God in all this pain...and why did He let this happen?


Sure, I could wax poetic with a thousand cliches and pat answers. There are beautiful scriptures...examples of faith. Words that are true and right. But, when standing face to face with the raw agony of a heart twisted in pain like that....sometimes I am rendered speechless. Sometimes there are no words...no answers.

I could say that this world is not the one He intended for us. The suffering, grief, and destruction are part of life in this fallen world. They are not Who He is. He is the love that carries us, the peace that sustains us, the grace that offers redemption. He is in the beauty born of the ashes.

My words will not fill the ache of a mother's empty arms or the agony of living life on this earth without the one she loves. Many times, I say nothing or very little and simply offer prayers and/or scripture. But, sometimes I long for something to say...some hope to cling to.

In April 2010, Kristin wrote this post, wondering about God and His intentions...wrestling honestly with her grief and the sometimes hurtful words of others. The response that poured out of me (along with buckets of tears) was the closest I have ever come to saying what I wish could be said to an aching heart. Still...the words are far from adequate. I copied my comment from her blog and pasted below:

Kristin,

I am so sorry people have used words that are hurtful. I'm reading your words with tears pouring down my face...so sorry for the hurt you are feeling. I can feel the strength of it through your words. The anger...the pain...the feelings of abandonment. They are bigger than anything else right now. Right now, there are no perfect answers or words tied up in a neat bow to explain the suffering and death of your sweet baby girl...and the continuation of loss you feel facing infertility. There are no words to make that better or explain why. I know the pain is bigger than anything else...that you feel like He has let you down, turned His back on you. You are in the thick of grief...heavy, relentless, merciless grief.



You may read my blog and see where I am now...it isn't a place I've always been. The process of getting beauty from ashes is no walk in the park. There were years of healing, brokenness, restoration, surrender, and learning to trust Him. He is still piecing some things back together in my life.

The words I want to tell you are going to seem so cotton candy right now. But, they are true...and maybe you can take some comfort in knowing that they are coming from someone who has walked through some stuff. 

God doesn't intend suffering, pain, death, sickness, cancer, grief...any of it. He never intended it. He isn't the author of it. And, as a loving Father who values you enough to send His own Son to suffer horribly and die in your place....He takes no pleasure in your pain. He loves you and His heart breaks for you...with you... I get that you can't feel Him right now...that the pain is too much. I get it, and so does He. When I even try to think of the depth of your pain, it seems like such bologna as I'm writing it...knowing that you are in a place to receive this right now, and desperately hoping that my words do nothing to pour salt in your gaping wounds...

(To be continued in next comment)

April 19, 2010 8:36 PM 

Kelly @ Sufficient Grace Ministries said...

Ridiculously long comment continued....

You may be thinking...O.K...He didn't intend it, but He allowed it. He didn't stop it. He didn't protect her. He didn't protect me. You're right...He didn't stop it from happening...and I don't have an answer for that. Not one that will make it better. His ways are not our ways...and only He sees the beginning from the end. It is true that there are beautiful things that come from the ashes of our brokenness. And God can use all things in our lives to shape and mold us. 

But, when you are in the pit sinking...where you are, those words sometimes don't help...and may even bring hurt. Who wants to hear about being shaped and molded when your arms are aching for your baby, your body is broken, and your heart is in pieces, and your mind is plagued with memories of the suffering of your precious child? You can't see the hope of that promise from the pit. Can't feel the comfort of it. That doesn't mean it isn't there...doesn't mean that He isn't there...and I know me saying it doesn't make you feel better. 
From my pit...I didn't want to hear about God's will...didn't want to hear about the fruit that would come...didn't want to count it all joy...didn't want the witty words and well-meaning verses...didn't want the pretty flowers...certainly didn't want to listen to any miracle stories...almost every promise from scripture or well-meaning words from Christians brought pain. I just wanted my babies. And I just wanted my mother. And...they weren't here...

For a time, I didn't want to hear about the promises and hope.

But...in time when, I did. I wanted to hold on to the promise of the joy set before me...wanted to know that although weeping may last for a night...joy would come in the morning. I didn't know when morning would come to my house and stay...but one day, on my knees, crying bitter tears...I felt myself surrender all that I had wanted and just let Him carry me. There's no formula or timetable to come to that place...and it sounds so easy and tied up in a pretty bow as I'm writing it right now. It wasn't. And, it wasn't a place I could come to on my own...

Here's the thing, I believe as the bible says, the rain falls on the just and the unjust. Whether we are Christians or not, we will find suffering and trouble in this world. It's a guarantee. We will walk through these valleys with or without Him. The bottom line is...I'd rather walk through it with Him than without Him.

There is unspeakable beauty that has grown in our lives from the ashes of our sorrow. I don't believe that God sent the sorrow and loss...and I never would have chosen it. But, He has used it to make us who we are...to draw us to Him...to teach us to love one another. I'm saying that, not to rub salt in your wounds, but to tell you that there is hope for healing. Even in this darkness...light can shine again.

And, Kristin...even when you can't feel Him, He is holding you. He will carry you...He is carrying you. When you are too weak to reach for Him, He still holds you. When you are too angry to hear Him...to go to Him...He waits for you. And...no matter how hurt, angry, deserted, lost, hopeless, broken...no matter how long it takes...He will wait for you. He will be there with open arms. He loves you with a relentless love. A love that can take your anger, your sorrow, your questioning, your doubt, your pain...
His only intention is tTo love, heal, save, and carry you....

You, my dear, are not a failure....and no one has the right to judge your "performance" in the pits of grief. No one.

I hope you don't mind my long comment...and all of my words. Words that I know do nothing to "fix" the brokenness. Please know that they have all been written in love...my heart is breaking with you...
I pray nothing I've said added to your pain...

Love and Continued prayers,
Kelly

I know this post is getting long, but I wanted to share these thoughts for the mothers newly walking this path...or those with other struggles feeling hurt and wondering where God is in all of this. I've asked that a few times, and He is always faithful to answer. God loves honest, real questions. And, He loves to meet us where we are. There is no pit so deep He cannot find us. For further thoughts and scripture on where God is when we are in the pit of despair, visit this post: Letting Go and Holding On

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?

Evangeline

Evangeline Joy (daughter of Katie and Josh) was born on June 26, 2011. Please click over to read of the precious time her family was blessed to spend with her. Also, please show Katie your love and support, and let her know we are praying for her. Thank you for your prayers...and for all who took time to leave an encouraging comment for this family when we introduced Katie a couple weeks ago. May we continue to encourage them now, as they grieve the loss of their precious baby girl.

He has sent Me (Jesus) to bind up the brokenhearted...To comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion-To bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. - Isaiah 61:1b-3

Please Show Some WWY Love to Katie, Mommy to Evangeline Joy

I cannot believe it has been so long since we've had a Walking With You post! I have been praying about where to go from here, and considering doing some changing around with my blog/website. Perhaps we will start another Walking With You segment where we tell our stories like we did in the beginning. There are many new mothers out there...and some veterans to this grief walk. I think we could be a support and encouragement to one another. That is what we are called to do after all...to offer comfort and hope to those who are hurting...the same comfort and hope that we received from God in our time of need. (2 Corinthians 1:3-4)

On that note, I want to ask you a favor. The cousin of a dear friend of mine is awaiting the arrival of her precious baby girl, Evangeline Joy. Evangeline has been diagnosed with Potters Syndrome (the same ailment that our Thomas had). Evangeline's beautiful mother, Katie, just started a blog to share her journey. Would you join us in welcoming Katie to blog world and let her know that you are willing to walk with her and pray with her...to encourage her and let her know she doesn't walk alone? I'm not sure how many of you there are out there. But, I would love to see her blog flooded with comments. It will only take a few minutes of your time, and it will be a great blessing to this sweet mama.

And...I'd love to hear how all of you are doing in the comments. Let me know...still thinking of and praying for you ladies.

Mother's Day Love and a My Forever Child Giveaway

*COMMENTS CLOSED...WINNER TO BE ANNOUNCED SOON

Love and prayers for all the mamas on this Mother's Day...

...to the moms whose own mothers are dancing in heaven.

...to the moms whose babies are in heaven.

...to the moms with diapers to change.

...to the moms with carpool to drive.

...to the moms with an empty nest, and to those whose nest is full.

...to the moms praying wearily next to a hospital bed.

...to the moms praying for their soldier to return home safely.

...to the hearts longing for motherhood.

...to the stay-at-home moms.

...to the working moms.

...to all the beautiful moms.

...we salute you and pray God's blessings for you this Mother's Day!

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Sufficient Grace Ministries would like to bless a special mother, today, with a $50 gift certificate from My Forever Child. Just leave a comment on this post to enter.

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

A Gift of Time Book Tour

For those new to this site, my name is Kelly Gerken, and I am the founder of Sufficient Grace Ministries for Women and Families. You can learn more about our non-profit ministry which offers comfort and hope to hundreds of families each year all over the United States and beyond by clicking the link in this post or the Home Tab at the top of the page. This ministry was born from our own family's journey through the loss of three of our five children: twin daughters, Faith and Grace, who suffered from twin to twin transfusion syndrome and a son, Thomas, who was diagnosed with Potter's Syndrome. You can read more about our family's story of hope and healing by clicking here.

I mentioned in a previous post that part of our story was shared in a recently published book co-authored by Amy Kuebelbeck and Deborah Davis entitled, A Gift of Time. This book is a wonderful resource for families who are facing a fatal pregnancy diagnosis and for those who walk with them through this journey. Kathleen Benson is hosting a question/answer virtual book tour today, so I joined in to share some thoughts along with a few of the other contributors.

I answered some of the other questions, especially my initial reaction/feelings after reading the book in a previous post. Click here to read those thoughts.

And, now I'll try to answer a few other questions on the tour:

· As a bereaved parent, how have you continued to celebrate the memory of your deceased infant, and what resources did you utilize to help you cope with your loss?

During a past session of Walking With You (our online bereavement support site), I shared more details about how we remember our babies. In the beginning, we had little birthday parties with cupcakes or cookies with a close friend. We don't always make a big deal out of those days now, many years later. But, we never forget. Hanging special ornaments on the tree at Christmas, donating bibles in their names, purchasing presents to give to needy children at Christmas through Operation Christmas child...these are all different things we have done. One of the most significant ways that their lives have touched the lives of others is the legacy they have through Sufficient Grace Ministries. Every Dreams of You Memory Book that is given to a grieving family, every Comfort Bear that fills a pair of empty arms...every one of the items we give says that Faith, Grace, and Thomas were here. Their lives mattered. Because they lived, because God comforted us in our grief, we can reach out to offer comfort and hope to others.

· For most of the contributors to A Gift of Time, many years have now come and gone since the deaths of our babies. Looking back on your pregnancy and experience since the birth and death of your child(ren) has your perspective changed at all over the years? Do you have any regrets or think that you would do anything differently, “knowing what you know now?”

It has been fourteen years since Faith and Grace were born still, and twelve years since we spent six precious hours with our Thomas before saying goodbye. When we carried Thomas, after learning of his fatal diagnosis, we didn't know that we were making some brave choice. We were just trying to parent our son the best we could, and do what we felt was right in the eyes of the Lord. We didn't know the significance of that choice. Looking back, I realize that there was so little support because most of the time families in our situation chose to terminate. We were sort of like pioneers in many ways. But, we didn't know that. We were just trying to survive it...praying for a miracle, while planning a funeral.

Regrets...

Yes, I have many. I regret not taking on the perspective that we could take Thomas to different places while in my womb, making memories...soaking in that gift of time for all it was worth. I sang to him, prayed for him, talked with him. I did cherish the time. But there was so much more I could have done. I could have written him letters. I could have had beautiful maternity pictures taken. I could have planned to have our oldest son at the hospital to share that precious time, along with other family members. We could have chosen comfort care...and would have, if we would have known there was such a thing. I could have written a birth plan, if I would have known there was such a thing. I could have given him a bath like I wanted, instead of allowing the nurse to tell me that would just be "too hard". I wish I could have had beautiful photographs of all three of our babies and our family like parents have today through organizations like Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep. I wish I had pictures of me kissing his face. I wish I would have unwrapped him and taken pictures of his feet and hands.

There are more. I could fill books with my regrets. But, I did the best I could. We did the best we could. We loved our children...all of them. And, one thing we do not regret. We do not regret giving them every opportunity for life. We view our time with them as the most precious of gifts. For that we are grateful...and for the promise that our regrets will one day be wiped away along with our tears. All will be right in heaven, where they wait, complete and safe.

· Whether or not you believe that “everything happens for a reason,” what good have you found that has come from your experience parenting a baby that did not live long before or after their birth?

I could fill books with the good that has been born from this journey, as well. We believe and have witnessed, that God makes beauty from ashes. We would have never chosen this path, but it is the path we have walked. And, there have been beautiful gifts in our lives because Faith, Grace, and Thomas lived. We were broken, more than once, in our sorrow. We learned to cling to God in such a profound and deep way...a way that can only be learned through being so broken, so desperate, so in need of His strength. We learned what it feels like to experience His sufficient grace. Our marriage went through incredible struggles, and seemed that it would barely survive at one point. And, yet...He healed not only our broken hearts, but our marriage has been restored to a place I never imagined possible. I mentioned before the work of  Sufficient Grace Ministries. That is a beautiful picture of the good being born from so much sorrow. And, we stand in awe of the privilege of being able to watch this story unfold.

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



Because we were comforted by a loving God, we want to reach out and offer comfort to others walking this path.
This verse has also held true for us:


Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.
Psalm 126:5

Thanks so much for stopping by on the tour. You can meet some of the other contributors to A Gift of Time by visiting Kathleen's site, linked below.
To continue to the next leg of this book tour, please visit the main list at Four of a Kind.

Tasting Heaven While Dressed in Funeral Clothes

I laid out my dress, chosen with her in mind, searched through my drawers to find the elusive pair of black hose without a run, fastened the silver beaded necklace, slipped on the bracelet Marlene made for me, and smoothed the make up over my tear stained face. He pulled his suit from the closet and hung it on the door as we readied ourselves.

Funeral clothes. Everyone who loved her was laying them out at the same time in their various homes, getting ready to say goodbye. Tears mixing with water droplets falling from the shower head. A ritual that becomes more familiar with the passing of time. Laying out the funeral clothes.

The scent of yellow roses wafted throughout the sanctuary and draped her casket. I nodded in the direction of her zebra print top and stepped onto the stage for the sound check. She always inspired me to rise to the occasion and do the next thing. "Lord, help me be able to do that now...help us." After adjusting his guitar strap, I sang a couple verses, breathing in the flowers and letting the song carry us. His peace was there.

The whisper..."Just cling to Me...I will carry you...I will meet you there".

I nodded, knowing He would.

The joy of her heart, three years old with the blondest hair I've ever seen and the bluest eyes, stole my heart in one second as he clutched his big Floppy pony. He danced to show what Grandma Dinah was doing in heaven, and made the tear stained faces smile. He stood by his Grandpa and folded his hands as he leaned into his mama. Pieces of her living on in him...in all of us.

We bowed our heads, we took the stage, and sang our songs. I thought of how she always inspired me to rise to the occasion. Even though I was being carried, I was grateful that He met me there so that I could honor her. We listened to the memories of her, and I clung to him. There's nothing more beautiful than the testimony of the life of one who loved the Lord and served Him with all of her heart. Precious. Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His servants. Precious. Because death here means new life there.

Heels clicking on pavement and a sea of black suits made the procession. Driving through puddles in our funeral clothes, snow melting into mud. Heels sinking into the soft earth and gentlemen hands helping ladies over the puddles. Black suits huddled beside the grave adorned in our funeral clothes, breathing in yellow roses under a tent, February winds swirling around. Quiet weeping and scripture reading, heads bowed in prayer, hearts honoring a woman dearly loved. Her blond legacy beautiful, sitting in a row...saying goodbye, beginning the missing. Full of the grace and beauty she leaves behind.

She knows how I feel about the grave and visiting the cemetery. She knows I'd rather focus on heaven, and she always agreed. Still, we stopped to lay one of her yellow roses on their grave, just a couple spots over, clinging to one another as if it were yesterday that we stood in this spot saying different goodbyes with the much younger looking tear stained faces. We walked away from the graves, heels sinking in the mud.

I'm always saying the only thing you can take with you to heaven is other people. If in heaven our riches are based on how many we take with us by showing the love of Jesus during our time on this earth, then our Dinah is a very rich woman. She touched so many lives in such a profound way...

A funny thing happened...an amazing, miraculous thing. Dinah loved everyone in her life with all that was in her and she talked about each of us to the others. She described the people she loved in such detail that when we met face to face today in the place we came to honor one we love in our funeral clothes, we felt as if we knew each other. In heaven, scripture tells us that "we will know one another as we are known". I tasted that today.

Let me preface this by saying that I have an absolutely terrible memory. I am always forgetting names and everything else. But, today, many times I would see a someone Dinah loved...a person I had never met or seen before, but I knew their names. I would say "Are you so-and-so?" And, they were the person that Dinah had told me all about. Each one knew me right back. It was as if we all knew each other and were connected by her love. That must be a taste of what heaven is like...knowing one another...connected by His love. It was a special gift. And, truly a beautiful celebration. Except for all the black and the tears, she would have loved it. She would have loved all the people she loved gathered together and knowing one another as we are known...no doubt she did.

A New WWY...a Picture of Grief and Why He Told me to Cling

There's a new Walking With You post up on that blog...a post where I get honest about grief. God choosing the word cling for me this year is making even more sense as I reflect this morning.

Turn your eyes upon Jesus...look full in His wonderful face. And the things of this earth will grow strangely dim...in the light of His glory and grace...

Walking the Walk...

When we were led to form Sufficient Grace Ministries in 2004, I had reached a place of restoration. God had spent eight years healing my grief...carrying me. He still carries me, but my wounds were not so fresh in 2004. I was able to begin to start reaching out, offering comfort and hope to others. And, He led me to do so...drew me, pushed me, stretched me, and equipped me every step of the way.

But, in 2006, my mother breathed her last breath.

My foundation was shaken. It's a foundation built on Solid Rock, so it did not crumble or break. But, I shook under the weight of the blow. I've shared before how difficult it was for me to watch her suffer and slip away, and how agonizing it has been to ache for her these four years. I am still healing. God is still faithful.

After she passed, I felt what I have referred to over the years as an Ecclesiastes moment (those moments in life where we wonder "what is the point...everything is in vain"). I felt like a hypocrite offering hope to grieving mothers, while I wept on my face every night, begging Jesus to help me see.  I only shared those feelings with my pastor and a couple close friends. But, when my grief was fresh and the pain so great, I didn't want to get up and speak pretty words about the hope we have. It seemed so trite, so inconsequential to reach out with small gestures of comfort and hope in the face of such terrible pain. I still believed God's promises, knew they were true...but in those moments all I felt was the pain. In the midst of that great sorrow, I wondered about the purpose of our ministry. Could we really even do anything to make a drop in the bucket to comfort hearts that hurt this much...brokenness that feels this broken? My words tied up in a neat bow seemed to paint a different picture than all the ugly we had to walk through to come to that point of grace and healing.

But, I did keep writing and speaking of the hope we have in Him during that time. As I said the words, my heart remembered the truth of those words. And, they didn't seem so trite. After all, our God is bigger than the greatest canyon of sorrow.

This morning, I am here again...in this place of great sorrow and loss...fresh, raw grief. I just watched one of my closest friends, my second mother, my mentor...a woman who has walked and prayed with me through my marriage, sat beside me at the grave of my babies, wept with me as I missed my mother, laughed with me, and loved me as one of her own...die the same way my mother did. Monday, I will sing at her funeral about His amazing grace, while Tim plays his guitar. My beautiful, larger than life, snarky sweet, horse-loving, dog-loving friend.

I know she is laughing and having a big time in heaven with her beautiful, sassy mama and probably my mom and babies, too. I know she is free from cancer, and the images of her suffering still fresh in our minds are forever erased from hers.

In this moment, I will continue to proclaim His grace and the hope we have in Him...knowing that it's true...knowing that those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. I've both sowed and reaped again and again. But, I also want to give a full, honest picture...because I know there are others on their faces weeping...asking Jesus to help them see...torn and weary. What it really looks like to cling desperately to the hem of His garment cannot be wrapped up in pretty words. It is a gut-wrenching sight...the faith that clings from desperation.  I'm going to share what fresh grief is like for a moment as I'm in that place right now. The purpose? Not for pity or to wallow in the sorrow (for we have great hope), but to be honest...to be honest and so that you who are walking this beautiful-ugly path will know you are not alone. Please know, there is a blessed assurance, an undercurrent of steadfast truth girded at my waist, even in the brokenness. I know He will carry all those who grieve the loss of our sweet Dinah, just as He has faithfully carried us through every other good-bye.

But, what it feels like...

Waves of sorrow
Weeping that comes from the depths and heaves the body with it's force
Aching, missing, agony....
Heaviness
Migraines
Nausea
Poured out and exhausted
Grateful...for the precious gift of life...for the faith of those who go before us
Joy and laughter remembering a life well lived
Tears mixed in

What it looks like...

On our face in the wee hours of the morning, in the middle of the night...
Sleepless
Dreams we'd rather not dream
Consciously reminding ourselves that He has already had victory over death...even as we feel the sting of it brushing close
Tear stains on bible pages
Prayers that hurt too much to grace lips...but moan out in cries that cannot be uttered.
Clinging and letting go...


Please pray for Dinah's beautiful family and for all the people missing her...and clinging to Him.
And, please pray that His grace will fill us, carry us, and meet us there as we honor her beautiful life the next couple days...and beyond.

Another Goodbye...

I walked through the house, drinking in the sight of each room, unsure of when or if my eyes would settle on her house again. I always loved the way her house was adorned with touches of her, paintings she made, fabric draped across windows, fabric she chose for it's color and texture. Fabric she sewed with her hands. I looked at her pictures telling the tale of a life well-lived and a woman well-loved, who loved well.

I settled in the chair beside her bed, the room filled with amber light bouncing off the sage green walls, listening to the rhythm of her breathing her waning breaths and the whispered prayers of the women surrounding her. I saw in her daughter's eyes a reflection...familiar. Oh...how I wished they weren't being asked to walk this path. I looked at the scripture scrawled across her beloved chalkboard and my eyes wandered to the kitchen table where we shared our revelations, our tears, our prayers, and most of all our unbridled laughter. I ran my hand across the table with the wild horses painted on it...the table she made with her hands, admiring the beauty of her work. Absently, I brushed the crumbs from the table onto a plate. Dinah always hated crumbs on her table.

I remembered our conversation after my mom passed.  I was struck by how much the touches of a woman and her personality makes up a home...how valuable a mother is to the life of her family. Dinah had talked then of her own mom's passing in those days when my wounds were still fresh, as I cried with the ache of a daughter who had no idea such missing could exist. She knew about the missing. She missed her own mother still...her mother, the one who always had painted finger nails and called me, "the girl who laughs".

Listening to her anguish, an Ecclesiastes moment threatened to punctured my thoughts, "What is the point?" The answer lies in the look in her husband's eyes when someone shares how his beloved has touched their lives. The answer lies in her beautiful blond daughters who love Jesus and are filled with the grace and grit she leaves behind. The answer lies in the legacy of photographs, pristine English riding competitions, and her dog Sky's blue eyes wondering. The answer lies in the face of her precious grandson. It lays in the beauty of my marriage restored and flourishing, and countless others she prayed for...healed and restored. It lays in those who proclaim the name of Jesus because she prayed and boldly shared the truth with them.

As I lay awake in the night watches praying my pleading prayers...the prayers that hurt too much to fully utter... I think of all the night watches she lay awake on my behalf...on behalf of my kids, my mother, my husband, her family, her friends, the prisoners she ministered to....everyone she loved.

I read some of her favorite quotes hanging in the kitchen. One was a reminder never to get too hungry, tired, lonely, or angry. Advice she gave me early on in my marriage, along with a myriad of other things. Another was "Most people die with the music still inside of them." I smiled, looking around at her eclectic, colorful house that so reflected her eclectic, colorful, snarky sweet personality. Not Dinah. She held nothing back...not her opinions, her wisdom, her passionate love for Jesus and His word, and most of all her love. The symphony of her life was poured into the lives around her. Her symphony plays on in the lives of everyone who loved her.

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I started writing this early this morning...reflecting on saying good-bye to my friend Dinah, whose time was short as I began this post. She went home to heaven this afternoon. She is free from cancer and every other earthly discomfort and sorrow. I will see her again, but for now, I will miss my dear friend. Please pray for her family and those who loved her.

Psalm 116:15

Precious in the sight of the LORD
is the death of his faithful servants.

When Heaven Whispers...

Yep...I'm late to the party again. But, Franchesca's blog hop is just too precious to resist. So, late or not...I'm joining in anyway. I love the idea of the little miracles, the ways God whispers His presence to our hearts...the ways He shows Himself specifically to us. When He does that in my life, I call it a Daddy's little girl moment. Special gifts, sent straight from Him to me...His little girl. Holly wrote about Godwinks in her post. I love that.

There are so many moments when God has whispered His love to my heart...times when I needed it most. There are also little gifts that remind me of some of heaven's residents most precious to me....Faith, Grace, Thomas, and my mom. I ache with missing for each of them. And, yet...there are moments when heaven doesn't seem so far away. It seems as close as a whisper, as near as a gentle breeze caressing my cheek on a warm summer day.

With each snowfall, I remember my Faith and Grace...and the first snowfall of the season on that November day in 1996, an uncharacteristically early snow...the day I met my daughters and drank in the beauty of their tiny faces. A sight that needed to last a lifetime. I especially love the snow with big fluffy snowflakes...just like they were that day...perfect and uniquely created by God...just like like my little girls.

Thomas is in the days with crisp blue skies and big fluffy white clouds. He is in the heaven shining through. Just like the day we stood by His grave. Light shining through darkness. Every time I lift my voice to sing "Oh Lord You're Beautiful", I remember the beauty of his face and glory that filled the room on the day Jesus came to carry my Thomas home while I sang those words and rocked my sweet boy. It is the closest I have come to Jesus....feeling Him whisper past me that day.

Tim, the boys, and I released balloons on Thomas' birthday in July...and the sky looked just like it did the day we placed his body to rest, twelve years ago.

This hand, holding this balloon, standing beside the grave of our babies....that's no small miracle....

Weeks after the balloon release, Tim came in with a deflated blue balloon, our message of love still attached. He said, "Look what I found in the yard. No coincidence there, huh?" Sweet Thomas loves his mommy and daddy, too....and so does our heavenly Father. We parents who don't get to see our little ones run and jump and live this life love to look for moments that remind us and reassure us that our babies live on in Heaven, and we will hold them again.

I miss my mom everyday. Every season reminds me of her. I love to ride my bike and feel the wind in my hair, like she did before the illnesses robbed her of strength. Every time we drive over the little hills and dips in the road she called belly getters, she is with us, smiling down on us. There are so many sweet memories that she lives in. Every time I send a Comfort Bear to a grieving mom, she is there. The day I looked up ...feeling helpless with her craft stuff scattered before me, clueless as to how to put the finishing touches on the bear...shouting to the heavens that I couldn't do this...that she should be here to do it. She was there. The day my sweet nephew Max was born and the room that he was born in just happened to be the hospital room donated in mom's memory...with her name on the door above scripture that God whispered to our hearts as she slipped from this world to the next. She was there. She loved her grandbabies...of course, she wouldn't miss that for the world! When I glance in the mirror, I often stop for a moment...seeing her eyes looking back at me. I have her eyes. And, I carry with me pieces of her.

I love when God whispers to our hearts that He is there. And, I love when heaven whispers to our hearts...a place so real...a place that waits for us...a place where part of our hearts will be waiting in longing until we meet again.
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Quick announcement: I just wanted to encourage any mamas who are missing their sweet babies...if you have not taken part in the Threads of Hope bible study, they will be starting another study soon at Anchored by Hope. This is a wonderful study! We covered it on Walking With You last year, and I found it to be a great encouragement.

Beauty from Ashes ~ Grief's Extraordinary Journey

This is a post from the early days of The Beauty of Sufficient Grace blog on the subject of grief. I thought it may be helpful to those who are new to grief, and wanted to share it here....

The following text was originally published in The Women's Edge Newsletter by Sufficient Grace Ministries for Women, Inc. and written by Kelly Gerken.


He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted...To comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion-To bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. - Isaiah 61:1b-3


As Christians, we have the peace of knowing that because Jesus Christ died on the cross for our sins, and rose again, that we will never taste death. We will have eternal life in heaven with Him. What a blessed assurance! Unfortunately, we still live in a world that faces death and loss everyday. And, although there is the wonderful promise of heaven, those of us who remain on this Earth still must grieve the losses of those we love (even if we are just separated for a short time.).

There are stages of grief that most people go through: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. Others describe numbness, disorganization, and reorganization. Each individual is unique in their grief . A variety of responses are "normal" and can be expected, such as : anger, resentment, pain, sorrow, bitterness, emptiness, numbness, exhaustion, apathy, depression, and even some joy as you remember your loved one, peace as you think of your loved one in heaven with Jesus. There are so many feelings that come at will and even when the overwhelming sorrow has passed and a new form of "normalcy" has returned, you may out of no where, when you least expect it, feel grief's gripping waves overtake you once more.

Walking the journey of grief is an extraordinary test of our faith, and our will. Grief is a tumultuous sea, a relentless roller coaster that we cannot control or escape. The pain often comes in great waves, and tosses us about in a "sea of grief", so powerful that we may feel as if we are drowning. It is important to realize that it takes much time to heal and mourn. Unfortunately, there is no fast forward button for grief. So go gently. Be patient with yourself and your grief. Even when we know that our loved one is in heaven, we rejoice for our loved one, but we cry for ourselves. Our tears are for those of us who are left on this earth to ache for them, to miss and long for their physical presence, as we face the emptiness of walking through our days without the one we love. While we have great hope in Jesus and the amazing promise of Heaven, we acknowledge that there is a time to grieve, and we must take the time we need to do so.

The hope that we have as Christians is that we don't have to drown alone in our sea of grief. Our heavenly Father is able and willing to carry us when we cannot walk through the difficult journeys of this life ourselves. All that we can do is cling to Him, believing His promises. Some days we may not even have the strength to cling to Jesus, and in those moments, He will hold on to us because He is merciful and loving, full of grace and truth and comfort. He promises to never leave us nor forsake us. We have a great opportunity in the despair of grief to ask ourselves if we really believe His promises. When the waves of doubt come crashing in over our head, we must remember who our Lord is and what He has already done for us, in us, and through us. We can search His word and find hope and peace. We can look back on our own lives and see evidence of His hand gently leading and guiding our lives.

How do we face the task of walking through our days, passing the ordinary time, as the world around us goes about the business of life, while our world has shattered into a million pieces? The best advice I have heard comes form Elizabeth Elliott, who has experience great loss in her life. She says, "Just do the next thing.". Maybe the next thing is as simple as getting out of bed, putting one foot in front of the other, or just brushing your teeth. Sometimes there is great comfort in just the ordinary small, one step at a time pace of life that can carry you through to the next day. We can take comfort in knowing that God's mercies are new every morning and great is His faithfulness. Slowly, one baby step at a time toward normalcy, we will see the promise of a new day, a light at the end of the tunnel of grief. With time, those who grieve will heal and joy will be restored..

Taking the time to remember our loved one is an important and precious part of the grieving process. Some find comfort in journaling, creating a memory book of pictures and memories of the moments that make up our lives together. Sometimes it's the simple everyday memories that mean the most- a smile, a touch, a hug, a laugh, a smell. In the case of losing a baby or a child whose life was cut short, we not only feel the empty loss of the person, but also of all the dreams we hold for that precious life that ended so suddenly.

The old saying "time heals all wounds" has some truth to it, but I believe what is really happening in that time is that God is working in us to heal and restore us.. You may have heard the analogy that we cannot see the wind, but we see the evidence that wind exists as it blows the leaves on the trees. We can feel the wind on our face and hear the sound of it blowing past. I think God works in those invisible ways. We cannot see Him, but we see the evidence of His work in our lives. We feel the comfort of His Presence.

My friend Dinah gives a great analogy of how God mysteriously works. She likens it to the changing of the seasons. In the autumn the leaves change colors. Often though it is so gradual, so subtle that we don't realize it fully until one day the tress are orange, yellow, red and brown instead of green. In the same way as winter approached, the leaves fall from the tress. One day, we notice that the leaves are gone. We know they must have been falling for some time, but it was so subtle and gradual that we hardly noticed, until, one day when they were all gone and the land was stark and bare. When spring comes, everything brings forth new life. What once was dead is alive again. And one day it happens. You wake up and the leaves have returned once more - green and shiny and new. You can't point to a time when they began to bloom, exactly. You may have seen a bud or two. But it seems that it is sudden. In reality it was happening all the time, subtle, gradual, unseen, changing and restoring life. That is the best illustration I have heard of the way the Holy Spirit works in us to heal and restore. How subtly God works in us to change us until one day what once was, is no more. One day , we are no longer struggling. We have overcome what once held us captive, be it bitterness, pain, grief, or sin. God had been healing us all along, working while we struggled. He will take the tatters ashes of the broken hearts and made them into something beautiful ... God will use every tear, every moment of brokenness to make beauty from ashes to heal our pain and restore our joy.

~ Taken from the Dreams of You Memory Book written by Kelly Gerken and published by Sufficient Grace Ministries for Women, Inc. Copyright 2004-2008

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:A time to be born and a time to die...A time to weep and a time to laugh...A time to mourn and a time to dance...

Shaken

Tonight I'm feeling a little shaken.

I have been purposing in my heart to make some changes. To run toward the Lord, to cling to Him, not to seek comfort in the things of this world, or my stinky onion layers. I have been desiring life and joy...determined, focused, excited about the Lies and Truth Bible Study...ready for a new year, a new adventure...excited to see what the Lord has in store for our family and Sufficient Grace Ministries in 2011. I've been having a grand time, getting my groove on with the Just Dance 2 game on our Wii. Dancing until I am out of breath, dripping with sweat, and laughing hysterically at myself. Good stuff.

The thing is, we are not in charge. We never know what is waiting around the corner. We may think we are going to get our dance on and wallow in a season of joy, reaping a harvest of the fruit that comes from sowing our tears during the seasons of sorrow.

We think we are ready for one thing.

And, something entirely different punches us square in the face shattering our plans.

I have shared before that watching my mother suffer and die from cancer was a struggle unlike any other in my life. It changed me...for the rest of my time on this Earth. Although I have leaned on the Lord, and felt His comfort and strength. I miss her daily...yet even in my missing, His grace is sufficient for me. I dream my dreams of longing for her...some ending bitterly. I experience her days of suffering like the flashes of a veteran returning from war. And...still His grace is sufficient for me.

Paul speaks in Corinthians of his thorn in the flesh. It was something that wasn't taken from him...something he struggled with all his days on this earth. Many of us have thorns in the flesh...illness, pain, sorrow, grief, loneliness, depression, physical and/or mental disabilities. We have imperfections, flaws, quirks. Call them what you want.

This afternoon, I heard that one of my dearest friends who has been battling cancer was taken to the hospital. She has endured radiation, chemotherapy, all sorts of procedures and medicines, and other forms of torture to fight the cancer in her lungs and brain and perhaps other places in her body over the past couple years.

This woman taught me how to be a wife, with her sweet, snarky way of telling me how it is. With her straight-talking ways, she drilled into my young, selfish, raised-in-a-household-where-women-were-in-authority mind the importance of honoring my husband and caring for my home...and training up Godly young men. She walked with me through the deaths of my twin daughters, Faith and Grace...and later my son, Thomas. She sat beside us as her husband delivered Thomas' eulogy under the blue sky with big, fluffy white clouds while the sun shone on our grief-stricken faces. One of a handful of people whose eyes looked upon our Thomas, she saw and appreciated his beauty. Her house was always the best place to have parties...the best food and fellowship. Her special gift has been making her home a haven for all who entered. She can make the best apple pie on God's green earth. She prays fiercely for everyone in her life...no doubt her prayers helped keep my marriage together through the toughest years. She loves and "gets" teenagers...and they love her right back. When in good health, she visited and encouraged, and genuinely loved those in prison as she helped deliver the gospel to them. Her words are part of the story...our story...shared in the Dreams of You Memory Book. Dinah and I are always saying..."The most beautiful gifts in this life emerge from some of the most difficult suffering. It's in the hard stuff that beauty is born." Saying it is much different than walking it.

She is my second mom. And, like my first mom...cancer has stolen much from her. She has toughed it out...much like she toughed out everything else this life has dealt her so far...with a perfect blend of grit and grace. I love her dearly.

And...tonight, she is laying in a hospital bed.

The outcome is uncertain, for now, as far as the condition of her physical body and mind. She has survived much more than doctors expected. And, we serve a God who makes all things possible.

I am trying not to look with my eyes....

Trying not to remember the flashes of the moments I watched cancer steal my own mother's mind and body...

Praying for my beautiful friend, Dinah, and her beautiful family.

Trusting that the same God who carried my mother and I through those days...will carry Dinah and her family in these days. Knowing that He is faithful.

When my mother was in the hospice center, Dinah sent me these verses:
Even to your old age, I am He,
And even to gray hairs I will carry you!
I have made, and I will bear;
Even I will carry, and will deliver you.
~ Isaiah 46:4

Verses I whispered to my mother as she longed for reassurance of His promises in the last moments of her life...

Tonight, I am shaken...

But my God is steadfast and sure. He is not moved...

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;  persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed... ~ 2 Corinth. 4:7-9

Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal. ~ 2 Corinthians 4:16-20


When my world is shaking, heaven stands...when my heart is breaking, I never leave Your hands...
~JJ Heller




Please pray...

New Walking With You Post

Just wanted to share that there is a new Walking With You post up. Click on over to read and share your thoughts.

Also...the Sufficient Grace Ministries Coming Events Page has been updated. Click over to see what's coming up. Please pray for upcoming SGM events.
And...just for your information, I plan to spend the rest of my day nestled in my Browns Snuggie (actually called The Huddler...but they're all snuggies to me) watching football, snacking on yummy food, and hanging out with my boys. The bigs and the little.

Happy New Year!

Remembering at Christmas 2010 ~ SGM Christmas Extravaganza

     
Contest now closed winners announced. You may still link your post and leave a comment, but they will not count toward the contest entry. Thank you so much and God bless you this Christmas season and in the coming year.
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 Linky following this post.

We will also be offering several beautiful ornaments to bless a few who participate.

This first round of giveaways will be for a special ornament to remember your loved one at Christmas. We are giving one baby boy Hallmark ornament (pictured later in this post), two Hallmark Always Remembered Ornaments (a porcelain clam with a pearl in it that says, "Every life leaves something beautiful behind.") And, one person will win a very special ornament hand painted by my friend Deanna who creates beautiful ornaments in memory of loved ones who have gone home to heaven as found on her site: Payton's Precious Memories (in memory of her daughter, Payton Rose). Deanna is donating an ornament for this giveaway...thanks so much, Dee!

How to enter:

1. Leave a comment on this post.
2. Participate by linking a post about how you remember your loved one at Christmas. (this gives an additional entry). Please put the Walking With You button in your post on your blog, or put a link to WWY in your blog post.
3. An additional entry will be given for every comment left on the posts that link up on our Linky.(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.)


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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.

A Christmas tree should tell a family's story. Each year, the memories come flooding back as we take out the ornaments and remember all the milestones our children have achieved, the sweet hand made ornaments adorned with school pictures, baby's first Christmas ornaments, Our first Christmas Together ornaments, and for those of us missing those we love, In Memory ornaments. They are a special way to include those who have gone home to heaven in our story. For they are very much a part of our hearts and our lives...and should be in the memories when we unwrap the ornaments each year and hang them on the tree that tells our family story. I shared a great deal about some of those special ornaments on our tree last year in this post. So, I won't repost all of that, but I will show a few more ornaments that have been added to our collection. Several of them came from some of you, my dear bloggy friends and fellow mamas. They touched my heart, and are treasured among some of the most precious gifts that I have received.

These beautiful ornaments were a gift I received last year from Jess:

And these three from Sarita:

And, this sweet ornament for my Thomas...

(Also the same baby boy Hallmark ornament we are giving away on this post!)

I also hang ornaments each year in memory of my sweet mother, Kathy, who went home to heaven four years ago. She adored Christmas, and she is so much a part of every Christmas memory for me. These Christmas giveaways are one thing I do to honor her memory. Even in difficult times, mom loved to make Christmas a fun celebration and she loved to give.

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.

WWY....Last Blog Feature Post...and What Gifts are you Thankful for, Even in Grief?

We are going to post the last few links to featured blogs. It seems that this segment of WWY has run it's course, as few people are visiting the featured blogs. I hope you will take a few minutes to visit these families this week.

Also, I would like to know what is on your heart for the next WWY? What do you think would be helpful? 

And...if you have a minute...I'd also love your opinion on a question posted in the SGM Blog Frog Community regarding a book I've been working on for awhile. Thanks so much!
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Some mamas who could use your love and support:

We lost our precious daughter, Kara, on December 26, 2009. She was 2 1/2 yrs old, and her death was ruled SUDC, Sudden Unexplained Death in Childhood. Kara would have celebrated her 3rd birthday next Tuesday, on July 13th. We blogged about Kara's life with our family at http://karaannelang.blogspot.com/.

Thank you for doing what you are doing for others.
With hope,
Kathy Lang


My name is Angie
Our baby daughters name is Addison Kathelene...9/12/2010
Our family blog is OUR HEAPPY MEDIUM


My name is Tina
My babies names are Isaac & Hannah Joy
My blog is Fly Away Home To Heaven
http://flyawayhome08.blogspot.com/

This next link is their story
http://flyawayhome08.blogspot.com/2009/06/story-of-isaac-hannah-joy.html

Please stop by and show them some love this week!

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And, now...I'd like to share a repost from last year about gratefulness...and I ask you to share yourselves. What are you thankful for, even in your grief?

Reflecting on gratefulness is very valuable...especially in the throes of grief. Grief is big and consuming. The simplicity of counting our blessings refocuses a grieving heart from the giants of pain, sorrow, and hopelessness to the hope, comfort, peace, and eventually joy that waits for us on the other side of the valley. The comfort that waits for us in the arms of our Savior.


For the Lord will comfort Zion,
He will comfort all her waste places;
He will make her wilderness like Eden,
And her desert like the garden of the Lord;
Joy and gladness will be found in it,
Thanksgiving and the voice of melody.
~Isaiah 51:3

I am thankful...that I have been comforted by the Lord.


I am thankful...that His grace is sufficient.

I am thankful...that my wilderness has become like Eden, my desert like the garden of the Lord.


I am thankful...that joy has been restored, that morning has come.


I am thankful...for every moment I watched Faith and Grace and Thomas on the ultrasound screen.

I am thankful...for every hiccup, every movement, every kick, every stretching pain, (not-so-much the nausea and vomiting:).

I am thankful...for every dream that we shared together for your lives.


I am thankful...for every conversation that held your names...and for all the times your names have yet to be spoken or written.

I am thankful...that I was chosen to be your mother...for the blessing and privilege of that amazing gift.


I am thankful...that all of my children, in heaven and earth, have their daddy's dark eyes and cute nose.

I am thankful...for prayers prayed over you, songs sung to you, tears wept for you, and the love that spills from the hearts that loved you...and continue to love you.


I am thankful...that Thomas opened his eyes to look up at me and a picture captured that moment of bliss.
I am thankful...that my babies lived on Earth...and that they live in heaven.


I am thankful...Faith, Grace, and Thomas...that I carried you in my womb, held you in my arms, and forever hold you in my heart.

I am thankful...for the promise that I will hold my sweet babies once more in heaven's glory and we will never say good-bye again.

I am thankful...that because our babies lived, many families are comforted in the midst of their sorrow.


I am thankful...that our mourning has been turned into dancing...that our love has sustained the storms of grief...that our God is able to carry us through this life and keep us together as we walk with Him.

I am thankful...that God has blessed me with the boys who remain here with us, filling our house with boisterous noise and the husband who continues to make me laugh, and fills my heart with songs of joy.

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness,
To the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.
~Psalm 30:11-12