Patience

Many times throughout each day I pray for patience. Apparently God doesn't just hand out patience just because you ask. He gives you opportunities to practice patience.

Take for instance our family's exit from all the Thanksgiving festivities last night. Our very over-tired 4 year old did not want to leave his Aunt Karen and Uncle Loren's house. The very couple who are expecting their first child in February. As I watched everyone's eyes growing bigger with fear, I quietly whispered give me strength . . . give me patience.

It took some time . . . and a cookie, but we finally got said boy into his car seat. The once tantrum-wielding young man, now sat calmly in his car seat discussing the intricacies of the color wheel and asking how the color yellow is made.

As I sat in the car, listening and watching my now recognizable son, I realized he is the answer to a prayer whispered from my broken heart almost five years ago, please God give us the opportunity to be parents again.

Davis, I love you. I am thankful you are here to teach me patience . . . . and all about Star Wars.

Our Home is More Than a Structure

Logically I know a house is just a structure, but this house and the memories it holds are precious. I know memories will travel with me to my next destination, but this house - our home - will always be more to me than a structure.

We bought our home in the Fall of 2002. We'd seen a lot of different places, but knew instinctively this was the home for us. Right away we made a few changes, but it felt good. It just seemed to fit. In a little over a year, my feelings would change about our home, and I'd know for sure it was more than just a structure.

After we lost Ellie and Kate we weren't sure if we should or could stay in our house. There's no guide for parents who lose both of their children on the same day - who go from having a house full of life to an broken and quiet soul. There's no one to discuss the pros and cons with. Not many people feel comfortable handing out advice to bereaved parents.

We didn't know what to do - so we did nothing. Grieving is exhausting - just deciding what or if to eat was the biggest decision I was struggling with back then. Through the shock, through the numbness, and through the healing . . . we stayed. The same house, that just a few days prior was full of joy and laughter, was now unbearably quite. And yet, it was still so full of love and memories. . . . we stayed.

For months to come I would find little fingerprints on windows and doors. I would find little toys and "treasures" Ellie tucked away in some obscure place she alone was privy. As I would wander through the house at night in a grief-stricken fog, I could still see them sleeping in their beds. I could picture them playing with their toys and eating breakfast at the table. I wasn't ready to let those memories go. I wasn't willing to let someone else live in my house - the house where I played, cared for, and loved my girls. I was afraid the least little shift in my thinking, in my being would make their voices, their smiles, their spirit disappear from my memory.

I don't remember the exact moment or the conversation, but we decided to stay. Staying was going to be hard. Spring was coming. I knew it wouldn't be long before we'd hear children laughing and playing at the park behind our house. I needed something to drown out those sounds. I needed a distraction. We decided to stay, but needed to make our house different. We decided to remodel. The process was definitely stressful, but the distraction was helpful.

Four years have passed. Bedrooms once providing shelter and comfort to our little girls are now occupied by their siblings. Their brothers and sister - too young to understand now - will one day know their sisters. We'll help them understand there were two little souls, who came before them, that taught their mommy and daddy how to love bigger than they ever imagined. Davis, Meg and Kale remind us how fortunate we are to be parents. We are blessed to be able to provide them with a comfortable home and hearts full of love and hope.

This post was submitted to Scribbit's April's Write Away Contest.

Tackle It Tuesday #2 - My Thoughts

How can it be that I manage to go through a whole day without one single worrisome thought, but as soon as I lay my head down ready to rest my weary body, my thoughts rise up and demand my full attention.

They say, "we have been waiting patiently all day and now it is our turn". As the dutiful, nurturing mother I am, I say, "sure you crazy, irrational, and irritating thoughts let me pay you some attention. I know I will be able to address all of your concerns and questions right now so I'll sleep later".

After listening to them whine for several minutes I think - wait a minute - I'm not falling for this - you guys don't control me you are just my fears and insecurities talking. I am sending you on your way so I can get some much needed rest. But these thoughts are determined and as if it were game day, they dress out in full pads and come after me . . . hard.

What if you go into labor early, What if there is something wrong with the baby, What if Meg and Davis have a hard time adjusting to a new baby, What if you don't have enough love to give to everyone, What if you can't take care of three children (did I mention these thoughts are irrational).

OK- so that's how you want to play - fine. I have something stronger than pads - I have prayer. I tackle these thoughts - pinning them down to the ground until they agree to listen - and I pray.

Matthew 6:33-34

But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

And my thoughts rest . . . at least until bedtime tomorrow night. So my "Tackle it Tuesday" assignment for this week doesn't involve a room in my house, but rather a room in my head. A room I will organize and keep tidy - free from worrisome thoughts with prayer.

Anne Lamott - Traveling Mercies

I recently finished reading Anne Lamott’s Traveling Mercies. Lamott has been writing for a while and has written several books. I guess my soul was finally ready to discover her. I eagerly read her truthful words. They stung at times, but I needed to hear her words and gratefully let them wash over me. I am including some of my favorite parts in this post. I will refer to these truths for the rest of my life. My hope is to develop them into further posts dealing with my healing and grieving process. For now I am dipping my toe in the water and hoping the bravery Lamott shows in her writing will reveal itself in me and encourage me to write my own truths.

All those years I fell for the great palace lie that grief should be gotten over as quickly as possible and as privately. But what I’ve discovered since in that the lifelong fear of grief keeps us in a barren, isolated place and that only grieving can heal grief; the passage of time will lessen the acuteness, but time alone, without the direct experience of grief, will not heal it.

She had a great deal of religious faith, and everyone assumed that she would adjust and find meaning in her loss – meaning and then acceptance and then joy – and we all wanted this because, let’s face it, it’s so inspiring and such a relief when people find a way to bear the unbearable, when you can organize things in such a way that a tiny miracle appears to have taken place and that love has once again turned out to be bigger than fear and death and blindness.

I do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us. It can be received gladly or grudgingly, in big gulps or in tiny tastes, like a deer at the salt. I gobbled it, licked it, held it down between my little hooves.

Do Not Worry

When I feel anxiety start sneaking in trying to take hold, I reach for my trusty Calm My Anxious Heart book. This book has been with me a long time. It was the first Bible Study I attended after losing Ellie & Kate - it was meaningful to me then and continues to provide me strength when I need it (which is pretty much on a daily basis).

This morning I flipped through and came to a chapter on worry. Dillow writes about her Anxiety Box in which she writes out what is causing her anxiety on a small piece of paper and places it in a beautiful heart-shaped box tied with a ribbon. Honestly, I do not have the time or patience to practice this habit at this stage in my life. However, it is comforting to know our anxieties don't have to be presented to God wrapped up in pretty packages - he takes them anyway we deliver them to him: broken, interrupted, and confused.

Matthew 6:25-34 (New International Version)

Do Not Worry

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Happy New Year!

We had a wonderful Christmas and are so thankful for the time with our family and friends. We are also thankful for two wonderful children who did an amazing job on the trip South and held it together much better than their mother did.

I am not making any resolutions this year. Instead I have decided to pray over a verse each month. After making an incredibly long trip to the South for the holidays, trying to recover from my Christmas hangover, and beginning my seventh month of pregnancy I have to decided Colossians 1:11 is appropriate for this month:

We also pray that you will be strengthened with all his glorious power so you will have all the endurance and patience you need. May you be filled with joy always thanking the Father. He has enabled you to share in the inheritance that belongs to his people, who live in the light.

There are no words . . .

It has been four years since we lost our daughters, Ellie & Kate. Everything about that statement is unbelievable.

I am healing. My heart lives in a place where sadness meets joy. I am blessed with a marriage that provides me with incredible strength and love. We have been given the gifts of Davis and Meg who bring us much joy and hope. There are things I struggle with – there are pictures of Ellie and Kate that bring me to my knees and there are memories to painful to recall, but I know that I am growing… through adversity we grow in faith, we grow in strength, and we grow in love.

"There are no words" is a phrase I've heard a lot - I used to agree until I read a passage that was shared with me by my friend Sarah Batley from Carol Kent’s When I Lay My Isaac Down. I know these words - I have felt them, cried over them and spoken them to others - these words are true and helpful for anyone who has experienced any sort of pain:

"There are some tragedies that are too big for a heart to hold, and they defy any description that makes sense. Time weaves its way through the shock, the hurt, and the inexpressible feelings, and one day you discover that in the process of daily survival, you have instinctively made decisions (good and bad), defined your theology, formed an opinion about God, and determined that you will either curl up and die emotionally or you will choose life."

"The terrifying but truthful fact is that, in choosing life, you realize it will never match the kind of life that was in your carefully thought-out plan for your future. It will force you to view people around you differently. The brokenness will challenge you to new levels of personal compassion. It will melt your pride, diminish the importance of your carefully designed agenda, and it has the potential to develop an unshakable faith that defies rationality."

We can not always change our circumstances, but we can allow our circumstances to change us in a positive way. God has given us the ability to make choices and to choose how we react to all situations. I choose to live.

Calm My Anxious Heart - Linda Dillow

As a woman and mother of small children I worry a lot! I was introduced to Calm My Anxious Heart a few years ago. I am someone who likes to control situations - this book helped me see I am not in control and worrying is "like a rocking chair . . . . it gives you something to do but doesn't get you anywhere." I refer to this book often and have found that the bible verses mentioned are the ones I often go to for strength. I will be posting some of my favorites on our blog. I hope they provide a little peace and comfort to you.