joining

I have learned many things from my children, when I have been willing to listen and have a teachable spirit.  They see the world so clearly - it's not clouded by past hurts, bioses, etc - there hearts are pure and beautiful, and they are willing to take emotional risks.   My daughter McKenzie has taught me, and reminded me on several occasions about the importance and beauty of "joining." 

A few short months after Bailey had died, the kids and I were watching her video.  I was crying so McKenzie came over and just sat beside me.  Without saying a word, she reached over and placed her hand over my heart, and pressed firmly.  After a few moments of silence she looked up at me with tears in her eyes and said, "Mommy, I'm just going to hold your heart so it doesn't hurt so bad."  I was speechless - my five year old understood that nothing - no actions or words - could fix this kind of hurt,  she knew that sometimes the best thing is to simply offer our presence.  She "joined" me in the pain of that moment, and in her joining me she opened herself up to feel my pain, and also acknowledge her own.  It was beautiful.

"Joining" can be risky business.  It opens you up, you become vulnerable.   

This past week some very dear friends of ours, watched their mother die.  In "joining" them it was painful.  I hated knowing that they watched someone they loved die.  In entering their pain, I also had to acknowledge my own.  -- I hated watching our daughter slowly die. I hated watching my husband carry her broken body out to the hurst knowing that I would never hold her, feel her, or smell her body again this side of eternity. -- These friends fully entered into our pain, holding our hearts and acknowledging the pain of living in a fallen world.  They could have easily chosen to not "join" us, but we are so grateful they didn't.  Because they were willing to feel our pain they lessened it by letting us know we were not alone.  They also blessed us greatly when they allowed us to "join" them in their pain and grieve for them and with them.

So sometimes joining hurts, it really hurts; but it also carries the potential for tremendous blessings.   I think of so many who "joined" us in our walk with Bailey.  If they would have protected themselves and not allowed themselves to really enter into our story they would have missed out on knowing one of the most beautiful treasures, Bailey Hope.  She was truly beautiful and reflected God in a way I had never seen or experienced.   

I can't imagine how empty  life would be if I didn't allow myself to "join" others, and if others didn't ask or allow us to "join" them.  We would have missed out on so much. 

When we are willing to live life with others and "join" them and allow them to "join" us, we experience true community, and I believe in those moments we get a glimpse of Heaven. 

Thank you McKenzie for the beautiful picture of "joining."   Thank you Ben and Jaren for allowing us, and entrusting us to "join" you, we love you and grieve for you.  Finally, thank you to our family and friends, and even strangers  who were courageous enough to "join" us when we needed you most.  We are  truly grateful.

Bottle of Tears

I have, and continue to be amazed by God's love for us.  I was especially feeling God's overwhelming love on Monday.   

For no particular reason it was a very difficult grieving day for me, but I'm learning that's just the nature of grief - it comes when it comes, without warning, with overwhelming strength. 

 Later that day, a dear friend sent me an email of a blog entry that she had read earlier that made her think of me. (Coincidence - I think not!)  I was so grateful for these words, they were truly a gift from God and came on the most perfect day. 

My Bottle of Tears by Kristi Huseby (http://brokenandredeemed-kristi.blogspot.com/)

I confess I’m a crier. I cry at movies, at baseball games when the National Anthem is played, at graduations, weddings, funerals. I cry when I hear a sad story, when someone else cries, when I share what God has done in my life, when I’m angry and when I laugh hard enough.

I hate the fact that I cry so easily. It can be incredibly embarrassing for one thing. And for another, it puts people in an awkward position. But crying can be a good thing!

God created tears. It is in His design that we cry.

I love the Psalms! Because they give us beautiful pictures of what our intimate relationship with God is like. And Psalm 57:8 (NLV) gives us one of those snapshots of God’s tenderness with us when we are experiencing incredible sorrow in our life.

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.”

(Yes, I’m sure I have a very BIG bottle!)

God not only keeps track of all our sorrows, hurts and heartaches – He has recorded them in His book and every tear we’ve cried He has stored in our bottle, the one He keeps just for us.

I wonder, does my bottle have my name on it? Is it a special color? Does God, my Father look at my bottle full of tears and say? “Aaah, that one is my daughter Kristi’s. See her bottle of tears, they are so precious to me, I treasure each one. I am intimately acquainted with all her ways and I love her. When she has cried tears that no one sees, I have seen, I know and cherish each one because I cherish her.”

What a beautiful gentle picture this is of our God! - a Father who tenderly collects our tears and holds them close to His heart.

Have you ever stopped to consider that God is keeping track of all your sorrows? That He knows each one of them. He has seen you cry until you can’t cry any more. He has witnessed your heartache over a difficult child, a wayward spouse, a broken friendship, or the death of a loved one. He has seen your tears when you have cried all alone in the dark, not sure of where to turn or where to go. He has recorded each one in His book and collected your tears in the bottle He has just for you. How precious you are to Him!

So let the tears flow and know that your God cares for you intimately and with great passion!
 
Thank You God for loving me just as I am, IMPERFECT.

Firsts

As a parent you dream about all kinds of firsts.  First smiles, first words, first steps, first birthdays, and first days of school.  A few days ago, I came across Bailey's baby book, and I was confronted once again with the harsh reality of all the firsts we never had, or ever will have with our precious daughter. 
Through my tears, I was reflecting on this past year of firsts.  The kind you pray that you will never experience.  The first birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, and family photos without your precious loved one present.  After lots of tears (and believe me there were a lot) I called my best friend.  First he just listened and then he said, "Heather, our beautiful daughter is the first to experience pure joy, she is the first to sit at Jesus' feet, she has experienced the best kind of firsts."  I was so grateful for Matt's words, they brought me such comfort, and a much needed perspective.  
 We have lived through a lot of our firsts without Bailey, and while we desperately miss her presence, her sweet coos, and delicate curls.  We praise God daily that he rescued our beautiful daughter from her suffering. 
We miss you Bailey, and we can't wait to experience "firsts" with you in Heaven. 

selfless sacrifice

i can't help but think of the selfless sacrifice both of our mom's have made for us the past three years.  they have denied thier own plans and dreams to be readily available for Matt and I, and our children.  so thank you to my mothers who have given up so much for us, and have been such an example of a mothers love.  you are both so appreciated and loved beyond words.  happy mothers day!

Easter

This Easter has been such a powerful reminder of our helplessness and inadequacy in contrast to His power and sufficiency.


As Heather and I talked this week, and grieved for others in our community who have experienced unimaginable loss, we were reminded of the incredible faithfulness of God in our lives.  Heather remarked that it is impossible to talk about our daughter Bailey without talking about our God.

In a beautiful book by Nancy Guthrie Called Holding on to Hope she describes genuine worship as "the words that flow from our lips and the works that flow out of our lives...to glorify God and honor him for who he is and what he has done."


Father we desire to lift up Your name as high as we can for as long as we live. 
       "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, Blessed be the name of the Lord."

2 years...

Taking in today....crossing lines between joy and grief.

we remember sweet Bailey Hope.
oh how we miss your beautiful eyes...
they said more than words could even begin to speak.
your sweet sugary cheeks...snuggling you in your favorite
fuzzy blankets and listening to songs that put you to sleep.
you are missed sweet child...by so many..you are missed.

we celebrate you Alexis Joy.
you turn 2 today. you bring such joy to everyone
who spends time with you. your infectious smile and contagious
giggles remind us that in the midst of devastation, God is near.
that He remains steady...bringing your precious family joy alongside
grief.

we love you.
we remain sitting with you...crossing lines with you.

Season of Pause

Our experience with the life and death of our daughter Bailey has not ended.  It does not sit tied up in a nice, neat, and easily understood package.  We are not who we were, nor are we who we will be.  Heather and I continue to "sit" in a place of allowing and longing to be changed by this experience.  We are acutely aware of our desperate need for God.  There is an intermingled sense of profound sadness and of genuine worship for Jehovah Shammah (ever present one) in our hearts and in our home.  We are taking an intentional season of pause with the hope that we will emerge healthy and whole, both as individuals and as a family.  It is our prayer that this wound will heal into a scar that is a visible and visceral reminder of His faithfulness.