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...
 

NICU donations

I'm still amazed at the number of people who are following my journals.  Thank you for so many caring notes today as we move past Sarah's due date.  It was an emotional day.

I've gotten some questions about how to donate towards the NICU dress fund so here are the details:

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!

I will carry you

"I Will Carry You"-Selah

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxZhEcTzn6Q

There were photographs I wanted to take
Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies, wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?

People say that I am brave but I'm not
Truth is I'm barely hanging on
But there's a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this

[Chorus]
I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the One Who's chosen me
To carry you

Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But I know
That the silence
Has brought me to His voice
And He says ...

I've shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies, no more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?

[Chorus]

Due Date

Dear Sarah

Today is our due date.  When I was pregnant with you and your brothers, the time together was filled with such excitement: waiting for the first wiggles, wondering if you were a boy or a girl and of course tracking the  time on the calendar and counting down the weeks and days until we could meet you.  Its a very special time that I fully cherished.  Obviously our time together is over, but with the days passing when you should have still been in me, I've been acutely aware of what I was missing.  So, I'm kind of relieved that this date is passing so maybe the pain won't feel as sharp.

We won't forget you but we're still figuring out ways to remember you and honor your life.  Last week I hung up your pictures around the house.  Mostly, we are just working through the grief and choosing "life" for our family.  The sadness we felt, and feel, in having said goodbye could have destroyed us but just like we chose life for you and fought for your life, your Daddy and I are choosing life for our family- we are choosing to cling to God and to each other and choosing each day to pour ourselves into your brothers.  We're focusing on the simple things and what really matters, our relationships and time with each other.  We want life abundantly.  We also want to bring that same life into difficult situations for others-we continue to raise money for dresses for the NICU.  I didn't think we'd be buying you a grave marker for Christmas--of course I had other, more joyful, ideas.  But we have given gifts in your name to a baby who was in need this Christmas and I thought of you.   Hopefully we'll figure out more ways as time goes by to honor you.

Your brothers are still thinking of you also.  The other day Zach asked, out of the blue, if we could get flowers for your "special spot" in the cemetery.  Gabe also out of the blue was thinking about what it would be like if you were with us.

There were times when I didn't feel or see God's presence or peace that everyone was wishing and praying for us.  Honestly I didn't feel much of anything and am just starting to "feel" again.  But after awhile I realized that all the love others were giving us through random gifts left on our porch, cards, hugs and words of encouragement were all God's love in action.  All those people were being God's hands in our lives.  Through them, I have been able to see and feel God's presence and peace.

I have no idea what you know in heaven about us, but we know you are surrounded by Love as you are in God's presence.  Know that we love you too.
Love,
Mommy

grieving with kids

One of the hardest parts of this grieving process is watching my two and four year olds grieve and miss their sister.  My heart hurts but watching their pain is almost as bad as having said goodbye to Sarah.

Gabe is calming down on his angry outbursts but is talking a lot more.  He doesn't want to see a friend because she has a baby and "I don't want her to have a baby. Sarah should be the only baby."  The other week he pulled things off the shelf at Target for a girl and said, "these will be great for our sister!"  When I explained that Sarah isn't with us, he crumbled, crying, and asked, "Is that the last baby to be in your tummy?"  Today he said that he wanted to go to heaven so he was going to hurt himself badly so he could go see Sarah right away.  Knowing that he probably doesn't get the finality of dying, I explained that he wouldn't be able to come back, we'd miss him, and that God decides when we go.  He calmly said that it didn't matter and he just wanted to go.

Zach, at two years old, isn't as verbal but he is still grieving.  During random moments of the day he often curls up in my lap or turns to me for a hug and says, "I miss Sarah" or "I hold Sarah again someday"

I never thought I would be having these kind of conversations with my preschoolers.  And my heart just hurts, hurts, hurts that I have to.   And this is when I pray "Oh God!  Please redeem this horrible time for all of us.  Somehow take this and use it to draw us to you.  Use it to draw others to you."

Grieving

Grieving is a funny thing.  Life doesn't stop even though I feel at times like my world has ended along with so many dreams.  I still have boys who need to be cared for, taken to school and played with.  And my husband has work.  And there's a house to clean.  And groceries to shop for.  And on and on.  Life continues on almost as if nothing has happened.  Problem is, something did happen and I've been changed.

Mixed into such deep sadness and feelings of emptiness, we also have "normal" moments of laughter, memory building, good talks and calm hearts and minds.  But emotions are funny things...almost like creatures who sneak up and surprise you.  They have their own personalities too-some stop by quickly and let you know gently and easily how you're feeling and others want to be the center of attention and have complete control for the day.  Some slip in quietly to sit and talk reflectively and others rush in like an uninvited guest yelling at the top of her lungs.

And we deal with them in different ways too.  Pat is working even harder to provide for those of us with him and I've been organizing our house almost obsessively (although I must admit it felt good to get the piles of paperwork under control and filed for the first time in our married life!).  All trying to give ourselves a sense of order in the midst of the chaos of our emotions.

We're trying to embrace our emotions and all their personalities and let them help us to heal and teach us about ourselves.  As we do, please understand the sudden tears or the desire to talk about Sarah...or not.  And also, if you need your home organized, please call me...I'm out of projects... =)




.

Heaven

Heaven is more real to me now.  Don't get me wrong, I've always believed that there is a place where we'll spend eternity with God but it was more foreign, like head knowledge or simply something down the road that I didn't think about often because, honestly, for the most part my life here is pretty great. But now I've held my daughter and watched as she slipped from us and mysteriously went to this place.  And now I think of heaven daily:  What is it like?  The boys ask about heaven often and we've had many discussions...as much as you can with two and four year olds!  They wonder if Sarah is eating dinner, if she's running and playing games with Jesus, singing, or sleeping.  Gabe and Zach pray to Jesus to ask him to tell Sarah we miss and love her. Zach wants to drive his orange car to heaven to say hello to Baby Sarah.  I wonder what Sarah knows.  I know she is with Jesus and there are no tears there but, as we miss her, I wonder if she misses or even knows about us.  And what does she know or remember about her short time with us?  Does she know how much we love her or that we really did everything we could to try to keep her? 

While in such pain now, at times the grief feels like a physical burden, I am simultaneously repulsed by our sinful world where such tragedies happen and also sense glimpses of heaven as I feel Gods presence with me, tastes of what it will be like to be completely in his presence in heaven someday and what I know Sarah is experiencing now.  Our pastor taught recently about the story in the Bible where Jesus wept because his friend Lazarus died.  Pastor Paul spoke of how Jesus cares (he grieves with us) and also will bring life from death and sadness.  In the case of Lazarus he literally brought life as he raised Lazarus back from the dead.  In our case...I don't fully know yet but I know that over time we will use this experience to grow closer to God, each other and help others in pain.  Life from death and sadness.   

I've clearly become even more addicted to Selah's music over these past weeks and I'd like to share yet another song.  "On the Mountain" reminds me that life is a journey, perhaps feeling difficult as if climbing a mountain.  I get glimpses of heaven now but its just past my grasp.  I can imagine bits of it, but lets face it...its behind our human comprehension that a place exists that's outside time.  As I Corinthians 13:12 says: "For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."  Just like a mountain rising up out of sight into the clouds, I can only see the part of my path that is right in front of me and I have to keep walking, reaching, longing for what I can't see. 

Please listen to this song and remember that this life is a journey filled with amazing moments as well as obstacles.  I'm walking this journey with my friend and Savior Jesus as closely as I can in this life, knowing that someday I will see Him face to face.  If you're not already on this journey with Jesus, will you join me?


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N3P34dYi3UQ

On The Mountain 

I’ve been climbing my whole life
And I’m only at the bottom of the mountain,
At the bottom of the mountain
Rising up from my feet in the daylight
Rising up into the clouds and out of my sight
Is the height of that mountain

Well my hands cannot reach it
And my mind can’t comprehend it
But my soul is gonna get there one day
No, my hands cannot reach it
And my mind can’t comprehend it
But my soul is gonna get there one day

Lord, these shoes are gonna need some help
So we can make it to the top of the mountain
To the top of your mountain
Many feet have gone before us
With a habit of faith and courage
They’ll meet us at the road’s end

REPEAT CHORUS

BRIDGE:
Yes, yes, I think I will
Oh yes, I know we will
Yes, yes, I know we will
Oh yeah, I know we…

I’ve been climbing my whole life
And I’m only at the bottom of the mountain
At the bottom of the mountain
All along this road when it feels so far to the top
You say, “Just hold on to the mountain.”

REPEAT CHORUS (X2)

TAG:
Well my soul (my soul) is gonna get there one day