We have been getting ready for Christmas and the season has been filled with all the usual traditions of baking cookies, parties, Christmas music and movies, and decorations. We also started a new tradition of going to a nearby town's Christmas parade. I started that by accident--last year I convinced Pat that we should all go since I thought going to a parade would be fun. It was ok and I didn't plan to bring it up this year. But the boys brought it up and were adamant that we all needed to go. It was freezing that day, literally in the teens, and we lasted about halfway before they were ready to go. Overall the season has been filled with laughter and good family time which is exactly what we wanted this year.
Yesterday we went to the hospital where Sarah lived to bring some beautiful dresses that many have made for their bereavement program. We had a chance to talk with a nurse who holds a special place in our hearts since she very lovingly gave us a dress on Sarah's last day. She explained how helpful these dresses are since there are approximately 200 families a year who say goodbye to their little ones. She is expanding the bereavement program at the hospital to be more than just mementos and to include bereavement training for staff to better support families who are losing someone. Our heart is in this program that supports families because we cherish the kind words and gestures the staff gave us. We regularly look at the pictures, blanket, teddy bear and other mementos they gave us.
I have been reflecting over the past year and how different it is from last Christmas. We were still in a fog, focused on getting through the holidays and didn't really enjoy them. This year has been so full of joy. I'm thankful that so many gifts we often take for granted such as laughter, smiles, and dreaming are back in our lives.
The other day, a friend was talking with me about a friend of her's who had just lost a baby prematurely. She wondered what she could do to help. The best analogy I thought of is this--Our life before had been like a glass vase but when she died it was as if the glass had been shattered. When we lost Sarah we also lost all the dreams we had for her and for our family. We had looked forward to knowing her, seeing the relationships form with her brothers, and growing as a family. The past year we have been picking up the pieces and putting them back together knowing that the vase will never look the same again. Who I am today, who our family is today, is not who we were sixteen months ago.
What can you do to support someone who has lost a child? Know that you can't fix it or make it better. Nothing can--our lives will forever be different because of what we experienced. You can help the person pick up the pieces, help them sort through the emotions and figure out what the "new normal" is. Ask parents questions about how they are, acknowledge difficult anniversaries, don't shy away from us. Yes, we may cry, but love us enough to give us safe space to do that. Others' presence as well as mementos help the healing process. Some loving co-workers and another family gave us gifts of flowers so that each spring when they bloom we will remember Sarah. And we will remember their love and support of us as well.
Its the small gestures of support that mean a lot to families going through this process. Yesterday, we learned how special the dress fund has been. We really had no idea so many of you would support it, and we are grateful that those gifts are bringing comfort to grieving families.
Thanks for being on this journey with us and for helping us put the pieces back together.
Merry Christmas!
Monday, December 23, 2013
Sunday, December 22, 2013
kid stuff
The boys have been saying and doing some silly things lately that has kept us all laughing:
Gabe at the table on Thanksgiving after we explained how a wishbone works: "If I get the big part, I want to become a duck. Don't tell anyone."
Gabe after school: "Mom! I was skipping today. And I'm really good at it even though I'm not a girl!...Why are you laughing?"
Zach, responding to Gabe saying some mean words to him: "Dad! Gabe's voice is being bad. Take it away, dad!" (with the tone of an announcer)
And we've been getting firmer with Zach (our picky eater) about what he eats. He's down to one PB sandwich a day (from 5) and then has to eat whatever we give him. Today he ate his first ever grilled cheese. But first demanded that we put salad on it. I never thought I'd have to beg a child to eat a grilled cheese. At least he likes salad. Last week he at pasta for probably the 3rd time in his life. He needed PB to dip the noodles. Baby steps...
Zach also has resisted showing us that he is learning things like his letters. We will ask what a letter is and he will start being silly. We've wondered if he's having trouble learning or what's going on. Well, it seems he's learning just fine. He wrote his full name, ZACH, last night without asking for help. The only letter he acknowledges knowing is Z. So, we've been tricked. We believe he may even have a book written and ready to be published.
Gabe at the table on Thanksgiving after we explained how a wishbone works: "If I get the big part, I want to become a duck. Don't tell anyone."
Gabe after school: "Mom! I was skipping today. And I'm really good at it even though I'm not a girl!...Why are you laughing?"
Zach, responding to Gabe saying some mean words to him: "Dad! Gabe's voice is being bad. Take it away, dad!" (with the tone of an announcer)
And we've been getting firmer with Zach (our picky eater) about what he eats. He's down to one PB sandwich a day (from 5) and then has to eat whatever we give him. Today he ate his first ever grilled cheese. But first demanded that we put salad on it. I never thought I'd have to beg a child to eat a grilled cheese. At least he likes salad. Last week he at pasta for probably the 3rd time in his life. He needed PB to dip the noodles. Baby steps...
Zach also has resisted showing us that he is learning things like his letters. We will ask what a letter is and he will start being silly. We've wondered if he's having trouble learning or what's going on. Well, it seems he's learning just fine. He wrote his full name, ZACH, last night without asking for help. The only letter he acknowledges knowing is Z. So, we've been tricked. We believe he may even have a book written and ready to be published.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Transitions and moving forward
This blog was started as a way for us to quickly share information with so many who were caring for us when Sarah was in the hospital. After she died, it was a place for me to share how we were doing but also for me to write about our grief process. I wrote publicly for two reasons--first, I think that death (especially death of a child) is a topic that is understandably avoided. I get it--losing a child is probably every parents' worst nightmare, its hard to know what to say to someone who is grieving since you really can't fix it, and maybe we worry that we will say or do the wrong thing. But so many people lose babies and grieve in silence. Perhaps people think it should be "easier" to lose a child since we didn't really know her, but that made the pain worse for me since I lost her along with all the dreams I had of what our relationship might be. My hope is that those who lose babies will feel the support that they need, to know that others are around them, to be asked how they are doing. And my hope is that we may all feel strengthened to reach out to parents who are grieving. Because miscarriage and infant death are a lot more common than we all probably realize.
I'm off my soapbox now.
The second reason I wrote was because even in the initial fog I was in I knew that our family would make it and I wanted to document our journey. It wasn't about "getting past" it or "putting it behind us"--that won't happen. Sarah and her death changed us as individuals and as a family. I wanted, and still want, to see how we would be changed as we pulled together, moved forward, let God heal us and figured out what our new normal was.
So here we are. It has been a year since Sarah's birth and death and our grief isn't as raw. We are healing. We will always have a scar across the picture of our family but instead of trying to hide it, we just know it is part of us. We are still on a journey of letting God shape us and I've decided that I'd like to keep journaling. At least for a bit. I've learned to slow down and appreciate the small stuff and I'd like to record the small joys, lessons learned, and struggles dealt with. And probably some goofy things the boys do. Because they are goofy kids.
If you'd like to continue to follow along on our family's journey, it would be an honor. And I hope to hear from you as well. Let us know how we can help carry you in prayer or in tangible ways as you've done for us this past year.
I'm off my soapbox now.
The second reason I wrote was because even in the initial fog I was in I knew that our family would make it and I wanted to document our journey. It wasn't about "getting past" it or "putting it behind us"--that won't happen. Sarah and her death changed us as individuals and as a family. I wanted, and still want, to see how we would be changed as we pulled together, moved forward, let God heal us and figured out what our new normal was.
So here we are. It has been a year since Sarah's birth and death and our grief isn't as raw. We are healing. We will always have a scar across the picture of our family but instead of trying to hide it, we just know it is part of us. We are still on a journey of letting God shape us and I've decided that I'd like to keep journaling. At least for a bit. I've learned to slow down and appreciate the small stuff and I'd like to record the small joys, lessons learned, and struggles dealt with. And probably some goofy things the boys do. Because they are goofy kids.
If you'd like to continue to follow along on our family's journey, it would be an honor. And I hope to hear from you as well. Let us know how we can help carry you in prayer or in tangible ways as you've done for us this past year.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Letter from Sarah's nurse & the NICU dress fund
Today we received a beautiful letter from one of Sarah's nurses. R. was working the last night when we were called in when Sarah went in for emergency surgery. She was with the Drs. when they came to tell us that things were bad and that Sarah was very likely going to die. She stayed past the end of her shift and worked with another nurse to help us understand all that was happening and offered support as we made decisions. When we asked for a photographer they called one and R. asked if we wanted a dress to put on Sarah. At first I said no-despite the face that the drs. had said she had a 0% chance at surviving more than a couple days, I was clinging to hope and didn't want to disturb our fragile girl. A bit later, she asked again and we decided to just lay the dress on Sarah and tuck it around her so as not to move her much. It was a beautiful white crocheted dress with a pink rosette and was just what I had envisioned for her baptism dress. Later, after pictures, I asked about it and if they had lots of dresses--I assumed there was a closet-full. R. said that she had been given the dress awhile ago and told to give it to a family who needed it. For whatever reason, she felt we were the right family. That kindness shown to us and our daughter took a bit of the rawness out of the day. Our girl was "dressed up" for a bit and we got to have sweet pictures taken as a family.
We started a fund to provide dresses to families whose premies are in the NICU where Sarah was. Much more was generously given that we ever thought. The letter says that the donations given in Sarah's name "have currently purchased over 75 beautifully handmade layette sets for infants and their grieving families." Additionally one of their knitters "is from England and her profits from our [the hospital's] purchases all go to a charity known as Love Light Romania which supports children affected by disease and poverty in Romania."
We are humbled to know that children and families are being cared for because of Sarah and so many generous people.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Celebrate Sarah's birthday with us!
We will never know the extent of who was praying for and supporting us a year ago as our daughter, Sarah, was born prematurely and died nine days later. As her birthday approaches, please help us
- celebrate her life,
- honor the wonderful Drs and nurses who fought for her life with us, and
- honor the wonderful family and friends who have supported us
We believe that all life is precious--an infant who was on earth a short time as well as every person we are surrounded with each day. All life is special and no one should ever be taken for granted or feel unimportant.
Additionally, in our family birthdays are special and the first birthday is always a celebration of our child but also of our survival through that first, sleep deprived year! This year was filled with its own struggles as we’ve grieved individually and as a family and...we’ve made it.
From August 14-23 (the days of Sarah’s life with us), please do something to recognize and honor life--such as take time to listen to someone, offer assistance to someone in need, call or write to someone who may be lonely. Focus on showing value and love to someone’s life. If you’d like to leave a message of what you’ve done on our blog (below), that would be great. If you’d like to stay anonymous, that’s fine too. And if you'd like to donate to the NICU dress fund we started at Royal Oak Beaumont hospital, the information is below.
Thank you for celebrating with us!
Thank you for celebrating with us!
You are loved,
Patrick and Heather
http://sarahs-baby-steps.blogspot.com/
NICU Dress fund
Donations can be made to “William Beaumont Hospital NICU” in memory of Sarah Shaw. Before she passed away, her nurses gave her a dress so we could dress her once and take some pictures as a family to help us remember her. We would like to provide dresses in Sarah’s memory for other families who have to say goodbye to their little girls-this is a fund we started to support families in their grief. Checks or micro-preemie dresses (button or closures in the back, please) may be sent to William Beaumont Hospital 3601 W. Thirteen Mile Rd. Royal Oak, MI 48073-6769 Attn: Mara Sipols) Please put "Sarah Shaw" in the memo of checks so your donation goes to the right fund. Thank you!
NICU Dress fund
Donations can be made to “William Beaumont Hospital NICU” in memory of Sarah Shaw. Before she passed away, her nurses gave her a dress so we could dress her once and take some pictures as a family to help us remember her. We would like to provide dresses in Sarah’s memory for other families who have to say goodbye to their little girls-this is a fund we started to support families in their grief. Checks or micro-preemie dresses (button or closures in the back, please) may be sent to William Beaumont Hospital 3601 W. Thirteen Mile Rd. Royal Oak, MI 48073-6769 Attn: Mara Sipols) Please put "Sarah Shaw" in the memo of checks so your donation goes to the right fund. Thank you!
Monday, July 29, 2013
A Lifetime Ago
Life is ever changing; like it or not, our lives are not stagnant. Most of the shaping comes in small ways, lessons learned, friends who teach us things, changes that are brought to our lives, and that’s when we can look back over a period of time and reflect on how all the small things added up to bigger change and made us who we are at that moment. For example, I can look back over a handful of years and see how things I've read, people I've known, and life events have slowly shaped my life and made me who I am.
Occasionally in life there are big events that happen that jolt us and create immediate change. A year ago we were preparing to welcome a third little one into our family and had recently found out we were having a girl. Boys were playing “baby” and were building a room for Baby Sarah out of couch cushions. They were walking around holding an imaginary baby, pretending to feed, play with and put her in bed. While we were still debating names, the boys happily called their baby “Sarah” and as I listened to them I happily thought about the time when all three would play imaginary games and laugh together. Practically, we were getting the house ready for her. We had new carpet put in the family room, replacing the 25 year old carpet, anticipating the time when a baby would be doing tummy time, playing and learning to crawl on it. The boys had been put into the same room, freeing up the crib and the nursery.
And a year ago today, we were wrapping up a really fun week of play dates, time at the park, and swimming. With my nesting in full gear and Gabe wanting to start painting the nursery, Pat took us all shopping after church to buy everything for the nursery. We bought all the pink blankets, sheets, decorations, bottles, and supplies. Pat planned to paint the nursery that week so that we could just sit back and enjoy the rest of the pregnancy with no more tasks hanging over us. How were we to know as we happily wrapped up our nesting tasks that the next day our lives would completely change? The next day, Monday, as I left for a routine OB appointment, I couldn't imagine that the same dr who two weeks earlier had said I was “better that perfect,” that Zach’s prematurity was probably a “fluke” and that I had a “great chance at going full term” would rush in to see me after my ultrasound with concern on his face and hold my hand as I cried. I couldn’t imagine as I left for the appointment, telling the boys that I would be home in an hour to go swimming at a friend’s house, that I would not be coming home for awhile. As I went up the stairs to the Dr’s office and began my ultrasound, excited to see my little one again, I couldn’t imagine that we would soon say goodbye to our little girl.
I think it can be easy to think we are in charge of our lives and then when a big change crashes into our lives, we are reminded that we’re really not in control after all. And life really is unpredictable. Maybe that's what shakes us most of all.
Looking back a year ago, that Sunday where life felt good and it all made sense, seems like a different life. Sometimes when I look back to that day, I almost feel as if I’m looking back at someone else’s life. Because life feels, and is, so different now. The large waves of grief that initially swallowed us up, have turned into a calmer waters, but the undercurrent is still there. We are learning to live with that undercurrent of sadness even while we are healing, experience joy, laughter, happiness and dreaming again. It will always be there.
Sarah’s birthday and the anniversary of the 9 days she was with us are right around the corner and the waves of grief are picking up a bit. As I look over the past year, I am incredibly thankful for how the four of us have drawn closer. We have all put in some hard work while grieving and I really do believe that we are stronger, individually and as a family, because of the struggles we have been through. We have really grown in faith through this year and I am grateful that God has not abandoned us but has been truly, truly faithful.
“Faithful One” Selah
Saturday, June 29, 2013
simply living
The past couple weeks have been really busy with both of us working, Pat traveling for work, house projects, yard projects and kid activities like the boys starting swimming lessons. I've gotten behind in simple things like meal planning and staying on top of chores. I'd lost the rhythm of my tasks and life had started to feel chaotic again. Something had to change and I knew my task load couldn't be reduced, so it was small changes that helped me to get more focused.
Last weekend I paused and took time to plan meals, write a shopping list, prep meals for the week. Not only will it save time and stress but we will now be saved from the monotony of eating tacos or spaghetti each night. Hello variety! We are challenging ourselves to "eat a rainbow" each day and it was very helpful to have trays of fruit and veggies to pull from. The boys got back into the routine of doing their daily chores this past week and, with their help, the house felt much cleaner and less messy. Last weekend, Pat and I re-started our weekly date night. It was a bit funny--since we both were too tired to do anything that required thinking like read or play a game and we couldn't find a movie we both wanted to watch, we ended up talking then each watching our own TV shows on Netflix while sitting next to each other! Ah, the romance! We also got back into our routine of meeting on Sunday nights to discuss the coming week and tasks. Does anyone else struggle with piles of paper around their house? I dove into my piles to try to get them under control since I'm tired of looking for things that I know I put in a "safe place" but can't remember where.
When I think of simple living, I think calm and focused on what matters.
Life is busy. There's no way around it, especially with kids. But slowly I'm learning to live simply in the middle of the busy-ness.
I'm enjoying the moments and the journey. If I'm not careful, life can begin to feel like a large task list--wake up, get ready, do this, drive here, mealtime, play date, etc. Of course there are tasks to be done each day, but there will always be tasks. It's not as if I will someday reach the end of my to do list and THEN I can relax and enjoy life. I don't want to get to the end of my journey of life and have missed the small things that matter. The small things that don't yell for my attention like sitting quietly to share my thoughts with Pat. Pausing to snuggle my kids. Spending time listening to a friend. Appreciating the masterpieces God puts in my life such as handprints on the wall or a beautiful sunset. Taking time to read the Bible and to open my heart to my Creator. Praying for others.
I'm learning to say no more often. I'm learning to take care of myself and that I don't have to do everything I'm asked to.
I enjoy preparing simple healthy meals and planning ahead. Cooking for others feels like a gift I can give to them and I enjoy the meal planning all the way to the presentation.
I'd love to hear any other ideas any readers have to live simply and keep focused. I honestly have no idea who reads this and I would love to hear from you. =)
Last weekend I paused and took time to plan meals, write a shopping list, prep meals for the week. Not only will it save time and stress but we will now be saved from the monotony of eating tacos or spaghetti each night. Hello variety! We are challenging ourselves to "eat a rainbow" each day and it was very helpful to have trays of fruit and veggies to pull from. The boys got back into the routine of doing their daily chores this past week and, with their help, the house felt much cleaner and less messy. Last weekend, Pat and I re-started our weekly date night. It was a bit funny--since we both were too tired to do anything that required thinking like read or play a game and we couldn't find a movie we both wanted to watch, we ended up talking then each watching our own TV shows on Netflix while sitting next to each other! Ah, the romance! We also got back into our routine of meeting on Sunday nights to discuss the coming week and tasks. Does anyone else struggle with piles of paper around their house? I dove into my piles to try to get them under control since I'm tired of looking for things that I know I put in a "safe place" but can't remember where.
When I think of simple living, I think calm and focused on what matters.
Life is busy. There's no way around it, especially with kids. But slowly I'm learning to live simply in the middle of the busy-ness.
I'm enjoying the moments and the journey. If I'm not careful, life can begin to feel like a large task list--wake up, get ready, do this, drive here, mealtime, play date, etc. Of course there are tasks to be done each day, but there will always be tasks. It's not as if I will someday reach the end of my to do list and THEN I can relax and enjoy life. I don't want to get to the end of my journey of life and have missed the small things that matter. The small things that don't yell for my attention like sitting quietly to share my thoughts with Pat. Pausing to snuggle my kids. Spending time listening to a friend. Appreciating the masterpieces God puts in my life such as handprints on the wall or a beautiful sunset. Taking time to read the Bible and to open my heart to my Creator. Praying for others.
I'm learning to say no more often. I'm learning to take care of myself and that I don't have to do everything I'm asked to.
I enjoy preparing simple healthy meals and planning ahead. Cooking for others feels like a gift I can give to them and I enjoy the meal planning all the way to the presentation.
I'd love to hear any other ideas any readers have to live simply and keep focused. I honestly have no idea who reads this and I would love to hear from you. =)
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Sweet brothers remembering their sister
Yesterday, Gabe asked to do extra chores to make money to give to the NICU for baby dresses. It was very sweet that he was trying to bag up the chore money he already had ("43 coins!")to give to families in the NICU. I explained that the way it works is to give money to the NICU in "one bag" and they would give it to families. So he sat down and for a long time worked on writing a list of chores on a to-do list. So today we let him wash the cars...who says you can't have fun while you work?!? Funny thing is, he really doesn't get the concept of monetary values. He started inviting neighbors and grandparents and the price went from "3 quarters" to "$20 and 3 quarters." We convinced him to switch to "donations."
Then our sweet neighbor, Nina, whose husband passed away the same week as Sarah, came over because she had bought some pink and purple flowering plants to put in the garden between our yards to remember Sarah. Gabe helped plant them with her. She only had a tall shovel and she showed him how to jump on the shovel to push it into the ground. She and I were holding the shovel handle upright while Gabe was jumping on the shovel like a pogo stick. It was sweet to have her teaching him how to plant the plants and having him do it while she helped. Between that and Gabes "car wash" it's a Sarah kind of day.
A couple weeks ago, the boys and Pat picked out a flowering pink cherry blossom tree for Sarah and Zach worked very hard digging a hole with Pat to plant it. He's still talking about the BIG hole he dug but also telling others about the tree for Sarah.
I know that some of the boys' activities are simply because they are boys having fun--what boy wouldn't like to dig in the dirt or spray water at the car? But I also love the part of them that is thinking of their sister and are happy to find ways to help remember her.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mother's Day
Today was Mother's Day. My first Mother's day without my mom and missing my daughter. Another odd mixture of sadness and happiness as I spent the weekend with my family--my silly family who brings me such joy.
During dinner tonight, Pat asked me what my favorite "mom memory" is. Many memories flew through my head: meeting and holding each of my kids for the first time, watching the boys discover new things as they grow up, vacations, forts built, times together reading books, doing crafts, cooking together, dance parties in the kitchen, snuggles and kisses "just because", crazy questions and silly stories. This weekend alone, there was so much laughter and moments that filled me with joy and happiness because of my kids:
On Saturday, Pat and the boys surprised me and work me up with breakfast in bed. They planned an elaborate breakfast and it was a cozy morning.
While driving to a friend's house for a birthday party I listened to the radio while they chattered in the backseat. When "Eye of the Tiger" came on I looked in the mirror and saw them rocking and dancing like maniacs to it. Who knew they were into '80's music??
When all the grandparents arrived for dinner, Gabe disappeared and returned moments later wearing his skunk costume. He did somersaults around the kitchen while declaring himself "stinky!"
Zach telling jokes:
Z: I have a joke! How do you fit an elephant into your refrigerator?
Us: How?
Z: No, say, 'I don't know'
Us: I don't know.
Z: hahahaha! I don't know either!
Gabe sharing his favorite "mom memory":
G: I love you lots because I love you!
Z: I love you too!
And Pat and the boys picked out a tree for Sarah that will bloom with pink blossoms each spring. I love that we are finding ways to keep her memory part of our daily lives.
On this day when I'm feeling sad and my arms are missing holding my baby and hugging my mom, I am also so, SO filled with happiness for the gifts God has given me in my family. These small moments of silliness and sweetness are soothing and help me remember what matters most in life. I'm grateful for the time I get with these sweet goofballs each day and for the nine sweet days I had with Sarah. Someday we'll all get to be goofy together.
During dinner tonight, Pat asked me what my favorite "mom memory" is. Many memories flew through my head: meeting and holding each of my kids for the first time, watching the boys discover new things as they grow up, vacations, forts built, times together reading books, doing crafts, cooking together, dance parties in the kitchen, snuggles and kisses "just because", crazy questions and silly stories. This weekend alone, there was so much laughter and moments that filled me with joy and happiness because of my kids:
On Saturday, Pat and the boys surprised me and work me up with breakfast in bed. They planned an elaborate breakfast and it was a cozy morning.
While driving to a friend's house for a birthday party I listened to the radio while they chattered in the backseat. When "Eye of the Tiger" came on I looked in the mirror and saw them rocking and dancing like maniacs to it. Who knew they were into '80's music??
When all the grandparents arrived for dinner, Gabe disappeared and returned moments later wearing his skunk costume. He did somersaults around the kitchen while declaring himself "stinky!"
Zach telling jokes:
Z: I have a joke! How do you fit an elephant into your refrigerator?
Us: How?
Z: No, say, 'I don't know'
Us: I don't know.
Z: hahahaha! I don't know either!
Gabe sharing his favorite "mom memory":
G: I love you lots because I love you!
Z: I love you too!
And Pat and the boys picked out a tree for Sarah that will bloom with pink blossoms each spring. I love that we are finding ways to keep her memory part of our daily lives.
On this day when I'm feeling sad and my arms are missing holding my baby and hugging my mom, I am also so, SO filled with happiness for the gifts God has given me in my family. These small moments of silliness and sweetness are soothing and help me remember what matters most in life. I'm grateful for the time I get with these sweet goofballs each day and for the nine sweet days I had with Sarah. Someday we'll all get to be goofy together.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Back to Normal after Easter?
Around here we are enjoying the end of spring break and Easter festivities: we still have a bunch of hard boiled eggs that are being eaten. Zach likes to peel them but won't even think about eating them. And Gabe has happily announced that the easiest way to crack an egg is to drop it on the floor--thankfully he has yet to follow through,. The boys are also continuing to hide plastic eggs for each other to take turns finding. Our week has been a happy balance of lazy PJ days, time outside, and visits with friends (for kids and mom!). In a way, its life back to normal for us.
But what was it like for the disciples that first "Easter" after Jesus died and rose again? I imagine they were obviously crushed with sadness after he died. They had so many hopes and dreams wrapped up in him-mainly that he would be the military leader they were all waiting for who would rescue them from Roman rule and re-establish the nation of Israel. And then...he rose again. It can be easy to miss the weight of those words since many of us have grown up hearing "Jesus died and rose again" frequently in church. It kinds of rolls off the tongue and doesn't always sink in. I often have to focus hard at Easter to really grasp what happened-- he died a painful, humiliating death. For no reason other than because of love for me and you. And then death, which is so final for us, wasn't strong enough to keep him. So coming back to life isn't exactly normal and then Jesus starts appearing to the disciples and I imagine they were a bit confused, amazed, excited, scared, happy, doubtful, elated...every emotion in the book. But still, even after three years following him and learning so much and then seeing him alive after they watched him die, they tried to go back to normal. Jesus even appeared to them while they were back to fishing--their "normal" from before Jesus called them to follow him. (I imagine as he watched them fish if he was thinking, "Really??")
I wonder if I've ever acted like that. Jesus showed me himself in a powerful way--taught me something, guided me through a difficult time and then instead of letting my life be changed I revert back to my "normal" and my comfort zone. Actually, I don't wonder. I know I have. Many times. Almost with an attitude of, "huh. That was interesting" when instead it should have rocked my life a lot more.
I've been reading the book of Acts with some friends and thankfully the disciples finally did "get it"-- they went out and lived radically different lives, boldly telling others about Jesus. Pat and I have been changed dramatically over the past seven months and have drawn closer than ever to God. This quotation from CS Lewis (which is written as if God is speaking to us) sums up how we are feeling:
“Give me all of you!!! I don’t want so much of your time, so much of your talents and money, and so much of your work. I want YOU!!! ALL OF YOU!! I have not come to torment or frustrate the natural man or woman, but to KILL IT! No half measures will do. I don’t want to only prune a branch here and a branch there; rather I want the whole tree out! Hand it over to me, the whole outfit, all of your desires, all of your wants and wishes and dreams. Turn them ALL over to me, give yourself to me and I will make of you a new self---in my image. Give me yourself and in exchange I will give you Myself. My will, shall become your will. My heart, shall become your heart.”
― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
We are praying asking God to simplify our faith, take us back to the basics, to strip away anything that we have added. We don't want to go back to our normal and instead want a new normal.
Where are you being challenged in your faith? Where is God taking you?
Simply enjoying the journey,
H.
But what was it like for the disciples that first "Easter" after Jesus died and rose again? I imagine they were obviously crushed with sadness after he died. They had so many hopes and dreams wrapped up in him-mainly that he would be the military leader they were all waiting for who would rescue them from Roman rule and re-establish the nation of Israel. And then...he rose again. It can be easy to miss the weight of those words since many of us have grown up hearing "Jesus died and rose again" frequently in church. It kinds of rolls off the tongue and doesn't always sink in. I often have to focus hard at Easter to really grasp what happened-- he died a painful, humiliating death. For no reason other than because of love for me and you. And then death, which is so final for us, wasn't strong enough to keep him. So coming back to life isn't exactly normal and then Jesus starts appearing to the disciples and I imagine they were a bit confused, amazed, excited, scared, happy, doubtful, elated...every emotion in the book. But still, even after three years following him and learning so much and then seeing him alive after they watched him die, they tried to go back to normal. Jesus even appeared to them while they were back to fishing--their "normal" from before Jesus called them to follow him. (I imagine as he watched them fish if he was thinking, "Really??")
I wonder if I've ever acted like that. Jesus showed me himself in a powerful way--taught me something, guided me through a difficult time and then instead of letting my life be changed I revert back to my "normal" and my comfort zone. Actually, I don't wonder. I know I have. Many times. Almost with an attitude of, "huh. That was interesting" when instead it should have rocked my life a lot more.
I've been reading the book of Acts with some friends and thankfully the disciples finally did "get it"-- they went out and lived radically different lives, boldly telling others about Jesus. Pat and I have been changed dramatically over the past seven months and have drawn closer than ever to God. This quotation from CS Lewis (which is written as if God is speaking to us) sums up how we are feeling:
“Give me all of you!!! I don’t want so much of your time, so much of your talents and money, and so much of your work. I want YOU!!! ALL OF YOU!! I have not come to torment or frustrate the natural man or woman, but to KILL IT! No half measures will do. I don’t want to only prune a branch here and a branch there; rather I want the whole tree out! Hand it over to me, the whole outfit, all of your desires, all of your wants and wishes and dreams. Turn them ALL over to me, give yourself to me and I will make of you a new self---in my image. Give me yourself and in exchange I will give you Myself. My will, shall become your will. My heart, shall become your heart.”
― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
We are praying asking God to simplify our faith, take us back to the basics, to strip away anything that we have added. We don't want to go back to our normal and instead want a new normal.
Where are you being challenged in your faith? Where is God taking you?
Simply enjoying the journey,
H.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Simply Enjoying the Journey
We have been slowly feeling "normal" again since Christmas. By that I mean that we are not feeling so numb and are starting to feel like ourselves again. In the weeks and months after Sarah died so many people said words to the effect of "wow! You're doing really well since you're out and doing activities with the boys." Can I let you know that grief isn't like a pit that you climb out of or like a fork in the road that you walk away from? Our grief and sadness will be a part of our lives until we are reunited with Sarah in heaven. We are healing from the "rawness" of the grief, but we still have difficult moments. A couple weeks ago Gabe was struggling and asked for the pictures of Sarah to be taken down. And I cried my way through most of the Easter church service as I felt overwhelmed with sadness (our family should be all together!) and also the hope we have in the death and resurrection of Jesus.
I've heard it said that we learn from our children even as we are teaching them and I believe that is true. I've grown as a person because of knowing and raising my boys. And Pat and I feel we can say the same about Sarah. We didn't know her personally very long, but the experience of having known her and then dealing with the grief of missing her has changed us deeply. Here are a couple things we have learned.
1. Cherish the moments. I've gotten many emails or facebook postings poking fun at those whose children are grown up and tell us younger parents to "enjoy the moments because they grow up so fast!" the articles point out that not all moments are enjoyable and how dare they say that since its not very encouraging as my child is screaming in the grocery store? But I have to wonder, if I don't enjoy the moments, then what am I waiting for? Because life is made up of moments. All the little moments add up to be big moments too. Sure, I get frustrated and have my yelling or crying moments like all parents but even when I'm washing out underwear for the 3rd time that day because of an accident, breaking up yet another argument between the boys, I feel grateful because at least I have boys who are arguing. At least I have laundry that needs washing. Do I enjoy every moment--Yipee! I LOVE scrubbing dirty underwear! No. But I am grateful for the moments. I remember back to the days before each boy and the doctors telling us that we might not have children. I know now that just because a child is born, we are not guaranteed a lifetime of moments with him or her. Even when things are frustrating or difficult at least I have those moments. I enjoy the time with my guys because I don't know when the moments may come to an end. When we were in the hospital with Sarah, Gabe asked if we could have a one-week birthday party for her and we agreed since we didn't know how many celebrations we would have with her. We are so glad we did that since she died only two days later. And anyway, life is more fun when we cherish the small stuff instead of letting the small stuff frustrate us!
2. Live simply. This is a hard concept for me to explain because our lives haven't slowed down and if anything are busier than ever. But we do feel as if we are more focused on what matters. We are seeking out and enjoying healthy relationships. We are taking time to rest when we need it. We are enjoying time with the boys and each other. I have continued to fine tune our eating habits to be even simpler and healthier. We are working on house projects that de-clutter and organize the house and help us live more calmly and simply.
We are simply enjoying the journey.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
The Path
I’ve been on this path for as long as I can remember-sometimes walking, sometimes running but always moving forward.
Step, step, step.
For years the path was relatively easy. There had been some unexpected twists and bumps as well as some detours that had frustrated me. But overall there wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle and it had been a pleasant path to be on.
After a long, rocky, twisty stretch the path suddenly turned a corner and in front of me was a smooth, straight path. All around there were signs of springtime. It was a welcome sight after the last twists and turns and I breathed a sigh of relief. It didn’t happen often to have this kind of an easy path and I was filled with joy. I ran along happily, excited about all the sights I could see down the way. I couldn’t wait to get to those milestones and dreamt about what it would be like when I was there.
Step, step, step.
Suddenly without warning Darkness descended and violently shoved me off my path and onto another path. This new path wasn’t at all like the last path or any I’d been on before. I’d done rocky paths before, but this one was covered in sharp, jagged boulders that I had to climb over or around. It was messy--muddy and covered in debris. As I regained my balance and started to move forward again I realized that I had been severely injured when I had been shoved. I looked down at my legs and saw that both were mangled. Stopping was not an option and I had to keep moving forward on this messy, new path.
Step...step...step...
As I limped forward, I began to hear voices from others who were calling out while traveling on their paths:
“Don’t worry! That must have been the plan for you! It will all turn out good!” Good? I wonder. Darkness shoved me. Does Darkness ever have a good plan?
“You’re strong--you must have been chosen to travel your path since you can handle it!” Huh, I think. Sounds like a rotten gift.
“At least you still have your arms!” Someone yells out. I wonder how in the world that is helpful as I limp along. I liked my legs. They were different from my arms and very much a part of me.
I nod my head as each voice speaks. I understand. They are trying to make sense of what happened to me. I wish they would be quiet; they are hurting me more.
Some others come running up closer rather than calling from a distance. They come near briefly and say, “Wow. That’s a hard path you’re on. You’re doing great!” And then quickly run back to the safety of their own path. Again I nod. I understand. They care for me, but don’t know what to do and are possibly scared that the same thing could happen to them.
Some who have traveled my path have come back to tell me that it will be ok--there are some spots up ahead that are better than where I am now. They say that I will slowly learn to walk better and the pain will lessen but the limp will remain until the end of my path. These people are brave to have come back to places they had already struggled through to encourage me. I admire them.
And then there are those voices I hear through the fog calling out, “I’m here! I don’t know what to do or how to help, but I’m here, my friend.” And instead of running back to the safety of their path they rearrange their path to be close to mine. They are getting messy right along with me.
Step...step...step...
Regularly these people ask how I’m doing. They listen to me ramble on about how unfair it is or how in pain I am. They listen to me talk about my old path and how I miss it and what it would be like if I were still on it. They understand if I need to be silent. They let me cry. They don’t try to make up answers to the whys. They spend time with me just being friends. I can see on their faces that being close to my path sometimes makes them uncomfortable, but yet they stay close. They stay right by me urging me to keep going. To do one more step, and then another, and then another.
Step...step...step...
And then there’s one more Friend. He doesn’t just walk near me--I feel His arm always around me. I don’t--or can’t--hear Him say much other than “I’m here.” I yell at this Friend often: Did He shove me off the path? Was this His idea to bring me, injured, to this muddy, boulder filled path? Why didn’t He stop the Darkness as it shoved me and injured me? Other times I just cry to Him. I hurt. I’m not supposed to be here. I get no answers. Just, “I’m here.”
Sometimes when I look to my side, I can faintly see my old smooth path through the trees. I see the milestones and the places where I thought I’d get to. I want to jump off my current path and go over there but I know its impossible. Sometimes I want to curl up and just escape this nightmare of a path and go back to that dream. But my friends and my Friend help me keep putting one foot in front of the other. “You are doing great,” someone says, “You’re stronger than you think!” And that helps me keep going.
Step...step...step...
I hate this new path and the new way of walking, but at the same time I am starting to enjoy parts of it. I have learned to appreciate the moments where the path clears up a bit. I pause to look around and I enjoy the beauty that I see around me. I enjoy the small things not knowing if around the bend Darkness waits for me again. I appreciate those who have gotten messy with me. I know as I watch them traveling close by that it can be uncomfortable for them but never before have I fully understood or needed true friendship. And I have come to love the arm of my Friend that is always around me. I used to think my Friend was just traveling the path near me--guiding me and pointing me the right way. But now I understand that His arm has always been tight around me. It is a love unlike any I have ever known.
And I keep walking.
Step...step...step...
Step, step, step.
For years the path was relatively easy. There had been some unexpected twists and bumps as well as some detours that had frustrated me. But overall there wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle and it had been a pleasant path to be on.
After a long, rocky, twisty stretch the path suddenly turned a corner and in front of me was a smooth, straight path. All around there were signs of springtime. It was a welcome sight after the last twists and turns and I breathed a sigh of relief. It didn’t happen often to have this kind of an easy path and I was filled with joy. I ran along happily, excited about all the sights I could see down the way. I couldn’t wait to get to those milestones and dreamt about what it would be like when I was there.
Step, step, step.
Suddenly without warning Darkness descended and violently shoved me off my path and onto another path. This new path wasn’t at all like the last path or any I’d been on before. I’d done rocky paths before, but this one was covered in sharp, jagged boulders that I had to climb over or around. It was messy--muddy and covered in debris. As I regained my balance and started to move forward again I realized that I had been severely injured when I had been shoved. I looked down at my legs and saw that both were mangled. Stopping was not an option and I had to keep moving forward on this messy, new path.
Step...step...step...
As I limped forward, I began to hear voices from others who were calling out while traveling on their paths:
“Don’t worry! That must have been the plan for you! It will all turn out good!” Good? I wonder. Darkness shoved me. Does Darkness ever have a good plan?
“You’re strong--you must have been chosen to travel your path since you can handle it!” Huh, I think. Sounds like a rotten gift.
“At least you still have your arms!” Someone yells out. I wonder how in the world that is helpful as I limp along. I liked my legs. They were different from my arms and very much a part of me.
I nod my head as each voice speaks. I understand. They are trying to make sense of what happened to me. I wish they would be quiet; they are hurting me more.
Some others come running up closer rather than calling from a distance. They come near briefly and say, “Wow. That’s a hard path you’re on. You’re doing great!” And then quickly run back to the safety of their own path. Again I nod. I understand. They care for me, but don’t know what to do and are possibly scared that the same thing could happen to them.
Some who have traveled my path have come back to tell me that it will be ok--there are some spots up ahead that are better than where I am now. They say that I will slowly learn to walk better and the pain will lessen but the limp will remain until the end of my path. These people are brave to have come back to places they had already struggled through to encourage me. I admire them.
And then there are those voices I hear through the fog calling out, “I’m here! I don’t know what to do or how to help, but I’m here, my friend.” And instead of running back to the safety of their path they rearrange their path to be close to mine. They are getting messy right along with me.
Step...step...step...
Regularly these people ask how I’m doing. They listen to me ramble on about how unfair it is or how in pain I am. They listen to me talk about my old path and how I miss it and what it would be like if I were still on it. They understand if I need to be silent. They let me cry. They don’t try to make up answers to the whys. They spend time with me just being friends. I can see on their faces that being close to my path sometimes makes them uncomfortable, but yet they stay close. They stay right by me urging me to keep going. To do one more step, and then another, and then another.
Step...step...step...
And then there’s one more Friend. He doesn’t just walk near me--I feel His arm always around me. I don’t--or can’t--hear Him say much other than “I’m here.” I yell at this Friend often: Did He shove me off the path? Was this His idea to bring me, injured, to this muddy, boulder filled path? Why didn’t He stop the Darkness as it shoved me and injured me? Other times I just cry to Him. I hurt. I’m not supposed to be here. I get no answers. Just, “I’m here.”
Sometimes when I look to my side, I can faintly see my old smooth path through the trees. I see the milestones and the places where I thought I’d get to. I want to jump off my current path and go over there but I know its impossible. Sometimes I want to curl up and just escape this nightmare of a path and go back to that dream. But my friends and my Friend help me keep putting one foot in front of the other. “You are doing great,” someone says, “You’re stronger than you think!” And that helps me keep going.
Step...step...step...
I hate this new path and the new way of walking, but at the same time I am starting to enjoy parts of it. I have learned to appreciate the moments where the path clears up a bit. I pause to look around and I enjoy the beauty that I see around me. I enjoy the small things not knowing if around the bend Darkness waits for me again. I appreciate those who have gotten messy with me. I know as I watch them traveling close by that it can be uncomfortable for them but never before have I fully understood or needed true friendship. And I have come to love the arm of my Friend that is always around me. I used to think my Friend was just traveling the path near me--guiding me and pointing me the right way. But now I understand that His arm has always been tight around me. It is a love unlike any I have ever known.
And I keep walking.
Step...step...step...
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