Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Sweet Sweet Peace
In Sunday's sermon it was said.." There is a big difference between something being hard to understand, and something being hidden from you"
This spoke loudly to me, and I immediately thought about Nathan. It may be hard to understand, but God's peace and grace and love, have not been hidden from me.
Yesterday Nathan would have been 18 months old, and I thought about those words and for the first time a weight was lifted and I was not sad. In fact I was not sad all day long. I thought about Nathan all day of course, but it was peaceful, and I had a grateful heart. Thank you Holy Spirit. Even though I don't understand..God never hides his blessings from me.
His blessings are not always what i anticipate. His blessings are often what I need instead. A grateful heart. A life of contentment. Peace beyond understanding. These things hold the most value to me. And while I miss my boy, the ache was filled with peace. Sweet sweet peace.
This spoke loudly to me, and I immediately thought about Nathan. It may be hard to understand, but God's peace and grace and love, have not been hidden from me.
Yesterday Nathan would have been 18 months old, and I thought about those words and for the first time a weight was lifted and I was not sad. In fact I was not sad all day long. I thought about Nathan all day of course, but it was peaceful, and I had a grateful heart. Thank you Holy Spirit. Even though I don't understand..God never hides his blessings from me.
His blessings are not always what i anticipate. His blessings are often what I need instead. A grateful heart. A life of contentment. Peace beyond understanding. These things hold the most value to me. And while I miss my boy, the ache was filled with peace. Sweet sweet peace.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Friday, February 22, 2013
Peace on the Breeze
Have you ever wondered why those of us that love the LORD endure so much tragedy and suffering? I wonder about it all the time. I am sure there is a philosophical answer. I am sure it can be backed up with scripture. But honestly, in my simple mind, I believe it is really all about God. Because, in our weakness God reveals Himself.
When I am at the end of my plans, and at the end of what I think is best, God reveals what are His plans and what is really best. What the enemy means for evil, God turns into amazing.
I tell myself the above each and every morning. It has been 16 -months now…. and each morning I have to remind myself of the above. Each morning I struggle with the guilt of moving forward. Knowing all the while that this is what God wants for me. It doesn’t bother Nathan that I laugh and experience life. It doesn’t bother Him at all that I carry him with me but not so close all the time. Some days I have to carry him a bit further away so that I can function.
It’s kind of like holding a balloon on a string. Sometimes the balloon is right at my shoulders and other times it is floating above me. Sometimes the balloon is far above my head. Other days it is in my arms. But the balloon is never out of my thoughts. I am aware of its presence and I value it. But if I hold it to tight it may burst. It may burst into the grief monster, and pull me down into darkness and sadness. I would rather watch it float in the breeze, knowing God is on the breeze, and my balloon is safe and sound.
Peace is a tremendous gift, even when we don’t understand. Have you ever seen the end of the movie Forrest Gump? The part when he sits on the stump, and the feather floats up and up and up. It’s cinematically breathtaking.
Peace is a lot like that. It just floats up and up and up, and it is an awesome display to just sit and experience it.
When I am at the end of my plans, and at the end of what I think is best, God reveals what are His plans and what is really best. What the enemy means for evil, God turns into amazing.
I tell myself the above each and every morning. It has been 16 -months now…. and each morning I have to remind myself of the above. Each morning I struggle with the guilt of moving forward. Knowing all the while that this is what God wants for me. It doesn’t bother Nathan that I laugh and experience life. It doesn’t bother Him at all that I carry him with me but not so close all the time. Some days I have to carry him a bit further away so that I can function.
It’s kind of like holding a balloon on a string. Sometimes the balloon is right at my shoulders and other times it is floating above me. Sometimes the balloon is far above my head. Other days it is in my arms. But the balloon is never out of my thoughts. I am aware of its presence and I value it. But if I hold it to tight it may burst. It may burst into the grief monster, and pull me down into darkness and sadness. I would rather watch it float in the breeze, knowing God is on the breeze, and my balloon is safe and sound.
Peace is a tremendous gift, even when we don’t understand. Have you ever seen the end of the movie Forrest Gump? The part when he sits on the stump, and the feather floats up and up and up. It’s cinematically breathtaking.
Peace is a lot like that. It just floats up and up and up, and it is an awesome display to just sit and experience it.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Proof Of Life
A new year has begun. When I think back on my life, I imagine that the little girl I once was could never have imagined where I am now. Little me could not have imagined climbing such huge mountains. But climb I did, and not alone I might add.
The past few weeks have been building behind my eyes. It was a strange pressure that all at once was there and then was gone. It was like a gust of wind that comes and refreshes the landscape. I didn’t realize the pressure had passed until I was on the way to North Carolina to visit my folks. We were in the car and I was talking about the memory box I have containing Nathan’s things. In it is the blanket, hat, and gloves he wore, and they are beyond precious to me. I never travel without them. Even if just for a night, I carry at least one of these items. It has always made me feel closer to him.
So I am in the car talking about the box, and it hits me that I have forgotten them. I am three hours into the trip, we can’t turn back, I don’t have his blanket. I don’t have anything of his at all. My heart sinks and I tell James what I have done. He asks me how I feel about it. I take a deep breath and say “Well I am not sure. I guess it wasn’t an accident I forgot.” I am quiet for a few minutes and James holds my hand. We are both expecting me to cry and need to turn around to get it. But a strange thing happened.
I didn’t cry and I never asked that we turn around. I took deep breaths. I sat with a bit of pain, and thought. I thought that maybe our minds and our hearts misfire exactly when they are suppose to. Maybe this was my minds way of making me takes steps my heart wasn’t ready to take. Maybe this was just life’s natural progression.
It is natural to hold on to things most precious to us. It is natural to not like change at some capacity. I think the problem is when it turns into fear. Fear holds us back from what God has for us. What was I so afraid of? Did I think that if I didn’t take a physical part of Nathan, that he would be left behind? Did I think He would be forgotten? I thought about these two questions the rest of our car ride, and it is only a few weeks later that I have the answer.
It was not that I thought He would be left behind. It was not that I thought He would be forgotten. It was because I needed something tangible to prove Nathan was here. The closer I held his “things” the more it felt like I was holding Him. My memories of Him come in flashes. His blankets and pictures and such, are my proof that He was here. They prove that this was all real. I did have a baby. I did have a son. He was here and he was beautiful. I know these things in my heart of course. But often my mind flip flops in trying to make sense of it. It wasn’t until our car ride that I was forced to accept that I do not have to have anything of Nathans to be his mother. His blankets are not what binds us together. I felt that if I let go of his things I was letting go of Nathan too.
In the weeks since, I have noticed a shift in my spirit. Being Nathan’s mother is very important. But it is not all that is important. I am a Mother, but I am also a child of God. Meaning I have a journey to fulfill. A journey designed for me. Nathan and even the absence of Him is part of this journey. He is a miracle I can carry with me if I can stop over thinking everything about Him. If I let go of his blanket I am not letting go of Him. I am simply putting down things I cannot carry all the time. It is ok to look around a bit and change the scenery. Nathan will be right there with me even without the physical proof.
Stories are not told by the final chapter alone. Stories are a continuation of thoughts
One line at a time.
One step at a time.
One lesson at a time.
One breath at a time.
Nathan is never without my love. He is proof of love, no matter where he is. Nothing I will ever do will change His purpose. I don’t need to do things to prove He was here.
God breathed life into Nathan, and he continues to breathe life into Me, Nathan’s Momma. That is really all the proof I need.
The past few weeks have been building behind my eyes. It was a strange pressure that all at once was there and then was gone. It was like a gust of wind that comes and refreshes the landscape. I didn’t realize the pressure had passed until I was on the way to North Carolina to visit my folks. We were in the car and I was talking about the memory box I have containing Nathan’s things. In it is the blanket, hat, and gloves he wore, and they are beyond precious to me. I never travel without them. Even if just for a night, I carry at least one of these items. It has always made me feel closer to him.
So I am in the car talking about the box, and it hits me that I have forgotten them. I am three hours into the trip, we can’t turn back, I don’t have his blanket. I don’t have anything of his at all. My heart sinks and I tell James what I have done. He asks me how I feel about it. I take a deep breath and say “Well I am not sure. I guess it wasn’t an accident I forgot.” I am quiet for a few minutes and James holds my hand. We are both expecting me to cry and need to turn around to get it. But a strange thing happened.
I didn’t cry and I never asked that we turn around. I took deep breaths. I sat with a bit of pain, and thought. I thought that maybe our minds and our hearts misfire exactly when they are suppose to. Maybe this was my minds way of making me takes steps my heart wasn’t ready to take. Maybe this was just life’s natural progression.
It is natural to hold on to things most precious to us. It is natural to not like change at some capacity. I think the problem is when it turns into fear. Fear holds us back from what God has for us. What was I so afraid of? Did I think that if I didn’t take a physical part of Nathan, that he would be left behind? Did I think He would be forgotten? I thought about these two questions the rest of our car ride, and it is only a few weeks later that I have the answer.
It was not that I thought He would be left behind. It was not that I thought He would be forgotten. It was because I needed something tangible to prove Nathan was here. The closer I held his “things” the more it felt like I was holding Him. My memories of Him come in flashes. His blankets and pictures and such, are my proof that He was here. They prove that this was all real. I did have a baby. I did have a son. He was here and he was beautiful. I know these things in my heart of course. But often my mind flip flops in trying to make sense of it. It wasn’t until our car ride that I was forced to accept that I do not have to have anything of Nathans to be his mother. His blankets are not what binds us together. I felt that if I let go of his things I was letting go of Nathan too.
In the weeks since, I have noticed a shift in my spirit. Being Nathan’s mother is very important. But it is not all that is important. I am a Mother, but I am also a child of God. Meaning I have a journey to fulfill. A journey designed for me. Nathan and even the absence of Him is part of this journey. He is a miracle I can carry with me if I can stop over thinking everything about Him. If I let go of his blanket I am not letting go of Him. I am simply putting down things I cannot carry all the time. It is ok to look around a bit and change the scenery. Nathan will be right there with me even without the physical proof.
Stories are not told by the final chapter alone. Stories are a continuation of thoughts
One line at a time.
One step at a time.
One lesson at a time.
One breath at a time.
Nathan is never without my love. He is proof of love, no matter where he is. Nothing I will ever do will change His purpose. I don’t need to do things to prove He was here.
God breathed life into Nathan, and he continues to breathe life into Me, Nathan’s Momma. That is really all the proof I need.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Perspective
I don’t have to look too far in life to get some perspective. God always puts a certain person directly in my path just when I need reminding or reflection. Today I read the words of a friend of mine in regards to her precious little girl in Glory. Her story echoes what my heart speaks. Her understanding of it all somehow validated my hurt.
My father in law once told me that “the difference between pain and misery is the lack of growth”. Something about her precious words struck a chord. Something about it planted a seed of healing and I believe the gap between pain and misery is a bit smaller today. It wasn’t any one thing. Perhaps it is because she has such a sweet spirit, despite her loss, and I hope to be like that. I hope to be a beacon for others. I hope that others look at me, despite my loss, and see my faith in action.
Each night, like clockwork, I have flashes of my hospital stay. It hits me as soon as I turn the light off and close my eyes. I can feel each sting like it is still happening. I can see each color that I focused on. It is an extra sensory thing I pray one day dulls. I pray one day I will close my eyes to sleep and I will just drift off without painful memories.
Today as I read her words something struck me that I think may help with that, and maybe even help my dear readers. She wrote of her sweet baby girl… “this one precious little soul has brought all of these people together to worship, God was Present”….. I had forgotten that part. I had forgotten that from the moment we learned Nathan had passed, we were surrounded by believers. It started with our first nurse, and ended with the nurse who helped me to the car. There was not one person caring for me that was not a believer. Even my visitors commented on the spirit in the room. God was indeed present, even in our agony. There was so much love and peace in our room despite Nathan’s absence. We could all feel it. Even the few nonbelievers in my close circle could feel it. This presence changed us. This presence sustained us, and still does.
How could I forget this? Perhaps this will be the key to my sleepless nights. When those flashes come..because they will…to remember those moments of God’s presence instead. To remember those moments when God used Nathan’s life for such a purpose as worship. To remember how we all cried, and laughed at the same time. To remember the scriptures being brought to life, and the faith that was in motion. To remember all of this is a blessing. The fact that I have peaceful memories when I choose to train my brain to search for them is a gift.
Isn’t it just like the enemy to only remind us of the pain? Isn’t it just like him to poke and prod us with the loss? Isn’t it just like him to distract us from the glory that was and is still surrounding us? Sometimes I am so focused on trying to breathe, I overlook that God has not forgotten how to breathe for me. Sometimes I am so focused on trying to gain understanding, I forget there is peace beyond it.
Lord,
Thank you for giving me perspective. Thank You for using my sweet friends and family to get my attention when I ignore you. I am sorry for ceasing to Praise you for a moment. Thank You for your sovereignty and for never ever abandoning me. Thank You for working in our waiting. Thank You for building a bridge to you, and for allowing Nathan to cross it. Thank you that I not only get to cross it one day too, but that I will see our precious Nathan there. We will praise you together, and I will see with new sight.
My father in law once told me that “the difference between pain and misery is the lack of growth”. Something about her precious words struck a chord. Something about it planted a seed of healing and I believe the gap between pain and misery is a bit smaller today. It wasn’t any one thing. Perhaps it is because she has such a sweet spirit, despite her loss, and I hope to be like that. I hope to be a beacon for others. I hope that others look at me, despite my loss, and see my faith in action.
Each night, like clockwork, I have flashes of my hospital stay. It hits me as soon as I turn the light off and close my eyes. I can feel each sting like it is still happening. I can see each color that I focused on. It is an extra sensory thing I pray one day dulls. I pray one day I will close my eyes to sleep and I will just drift off without painful memories.
Today as I read her words something struck me that I think may help with that, and maybe even help my dear readers. She wrote of her sweet baby girl… “this one precious little soul has brought all of these people together to worship, God was Present”….. I had forgotten that part. I had forgotten that from the moment we learned Nathan had passed, we were surrounded by believers. It started with our first nurse, and ended with the nurse who helped me to the car. There was not one person caring for me that was not a believer. Even my visitors commented on the spirit in the room. God was indeed present, even in our agony. There was so much love and peace in our room despite Nathan’s absence. We could all feel it. Even the few nonbelievers in my close circle could feel it. This presence changed us. This presence sustained us, and still does.
How could I forget this? Perhaps this will be the key to my sleepless nights. When those flashes come..because they will…to remember those moments of God’s presence instead. To remember those moments when God used Nathan’s life for such a purpose as worship. To remember how we all cried, and laughed at the same time. To remember the scriptures being brought to life, and the faith that was in motion. To remember all of this is a blessing. The fact that I have peaceful memories when I choose to train my brain to search for them is a gift.
Isn’t it just like the enemy to only remind us of the pain? Isn’t it just like him to poke and prod us with the loss? Isn’t it just like him to distract us from the glory that was and is still surrounding us? Sometimes I am so focused on trying to breathe, I overlook that God has not forgotten how to breathe for me. Sometimes I am so focused on trying to gain understanding, I forget there is peace beyond it.
Lord,
Thank you for giving me perspective. Thank You for using my sweet friends and family to get my attention when I ignore you. I am sorry for ceasing to Praise you for a moment. Thank You for your sovereignty and for never ever abandoning me. Thank You for working in our waiting. Thank You for building a bridge to you, and for allowing Nathan to cross it. Thank you that I not only get to cross it one day too, but that I will see our precious Nathan there. We will praise you together, and I will see with new sight.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Keep It Open
Today was a good Nathan Day. James and I use that type of blanket phrase because we have to have constant communication between us about Nathan. Any moment can be good or bad and it can be different for each of us at different times. If one of us is having a good Nathan Day we have to be sensitive if the other isn't and vise a versa. Resentment builds otherwise and who needs that?
When one of us is "off" the other needs to be "on". We have to be each other’s soldiers. This is the fight of our collective lives thus far. Because of our open communication about Nathan our marriage has never wavered. Our marriage is strong. Our marriage is solid. Keeping our focus on strengthening each other is how we can fight "The Enemy". Satan wants Nathans death to tear us apart. He wants the worst possible things for us. That is why he is referred to as "The Enemy".
The day of Nathan's funeral we sat amongst our parents and asked for prayer over our marriage. I asked that they pray a blanket of protection that we not loose each other in all of this pain. Over a year later I can say that this prayer of protection is still in full effect. This is a prayer in action.
Today we were not just able to talk to two sweet ladies at the bookstore about Nathan, but when we walked away we had a glow. A glow we now call a "Nathan Glow". I started telling these sweet ladies about our loss, and I instantly felt James beside me. I don't know how long he had been there, all I know was he was there, and that gave me strength. For the first time I understood what James means when he says " I love talking about Nathan with people, it never makes me sad, I am proud of my son."
Today for the first time I could hear above the noise in my mind, and in my heart, and hear the holy spirit say "Go ahead and talk about your boy".
I believe we planted seeds of peace today, and it all began with the strength we give each other on a daily basis. That strength goes straight from God to us, and we pass it along to each other. Perhaps we may have even changed someone's perspective today. Our talk on the way home was how Nathan is so much bigger than we will ever understand. He is so important in this life, and he doesn’t have to physically be here to leave His mark.
Nathan,
You are such a lucky little booger. We love you so much, and are very proud to tell people that you are part of us forever.
Love , Mommy and Daddy
When one of us is "off" the other needs to be "on". We have to be each other’s soldiers. This is the fight of our collective lives thus far. Because of our open communication about Nathan our marriage has never wavered. Our marriage is strong. Our marriage is solid. Keeping our focus on strengthening each other is how we can fight "The Enemy". Satan wants Nathans death to tear us apart. He wants the worst possible things for us. That is why he is referred to as "The Enemy".
The day of Nathan's funeral we sat amongst our parents and asked for prayer over our marriage. I asked that they pray a blanket of protection that we not loose each other in all of this pain. Over a year later I can say that this prayer of protection is still in full effect. This is a prayer in action.
Today we were not just able to talk to two sweet ladies at the bookstore about Nathan, but when we walked away we had a glow. A glow we now call a "Nathan Glow". I started telling these sweet ladies about our loss, and I instantly felt James beside me. I don't know how long he had been there, all I know was he was there, and that gave me strength. For the first time I understood what James means when he says " I love talking about Nathan with people, it never makes me sad, I am proud of my son."
Today for the first time I could hear above the noise in my mind, and in my heart, and hear the holy spirit say "Go ahead and talk about your boy".
I believe we planted seeds of peace today, and it all began with the strength we give each other on a daily basis. That strength goes straight from God to us, and we pass it along to each other. Perhaps we may have even changed someone's perspective today. Our talk on the way home was how Nathan is so much bigger than we will ever understand. He is so important in this life, and he doesn’t have to physically be here to leave His mark.
Nathan,
You are such a lucky little booger. We love you so much, and are very proud to tell people that you are part of us forever.
Love , Mommy and Daddy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)