remembering Sadie

I can't let this day pass without acknowledging it's significance to our family.  One year ago today my sister Kerry gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Sadie Grace.  I was in the waiting room, but my heart was in the delivery room, aching so deeply for my sister.  You see, we already knew that Sadie had moved on to her heavenly home.  As we held her precious body that day, and kissed her, and admired her, she was already resting in Jesus' arms.  


I felt so sad, and so numb.  This was a little too familiar.  It had been almost 10 years since we had said hello to our little boy Aidan, only to say goodbye to him 4 short months later.    I couldn't believe that my sister and brother-in-law were experiencing the same grief we had endured.  I couldn't believe my mom and dad had to say goodbye to another grandchild, and watch another daughter grieve.  


But regardless of all the complicated emotions I felt a year ago today, what I KNEW was that God would walk them--us--through.  That the evil of the situation would not be able to harm them.  That amazingly, when facing a parent's worst nightmare, they would not be swallowed up.  Sadie wasn't the only one being held by our loving God--we all were.  The song "Held" by Natalie Grant captures what we experienced when we lost Aidan, and what I trusted Kerry and Jeff would experience too.  The chorus says:


This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We'd be held


Yes, we had been held.  I specifically remember during Aidan's life the feeling of Someone outside myself holding me up as bad news threatened to consume me.  I remember the comfort of Jesus' arms as I sat on my couch each day for months and cried and missed my boy.  The holding is very real.  And I'm so thankful.  That I experienced it myself, and could hang on to the fact that Kerry would experience it too.  It was that Hope that propelled me through the blur of days surrounding Sadie's death.


I don't understand why Aidan and Sadie didn't get to stay with us...but I do know that God used their lives to change us, to mold us and to tenderize us.  He is a redeemer,  and is redeeming the suffering.  We choose to accept the loss of these precious ones as Big-G-Good, in spite of the pain of the choice.  With our hearts soft towards Him, He allows us to see glimpses of the reality of the Good.


We love and miss you, sweet Sadie.  Until we see you again, enjoy the love and joy of our Savior.  

a gift unwrapped

bubba and his bedhead this week

It was just a few words.  In the midst of the morning routine.  As I was trying to tame his bed head, we looked into the mirror together to see if it was "good enough".  And then he said it.

"I can't even explain how much I love you."

A nine-year-old made in God's image.  Reflecting God's character. Unconditional, unexplainable love.  My heart swelled with love for this gift, this boy.

And for the Father, who in the midst of all of my feeble attempts at loving and caring for those He gave me--says the same to me.

I can't even explain how much I love you.  

Today I'm unwrapping the gift of unearned, unimaginable love in the midst of the ordinary messiness of life.  For more gifts unwrapped, visit chatting at the sky.

moments of calm

I'm sitting.  Quietly.  Just me.

My Bible, my journal, a purple pen and my mug of diet coke are nearby.  The TV is off, the music is off, there is no chatter.  I hear only the birds singing outside, my dog sleeping and my fingers clicking the keyboard.

I smell the roses given in honor of beautiful dancing, and the sun is streaming through the window.

Calm.  Thoughts and happenings threaten to spin through my head, but I choose calm.

After a lovely and busy visit, my in-laws have left for the airport this morning.  My husband, whose back has kept him from work on and off these last weeks feels good enough to go today.  My birthday-girl-dancer has gone to school even though she has a muscle knot in her back that I just couldn't quite rub away.  Bubba is off to school along with his Paul Revere diorama that was finally finished last night.  I close the door behind them all--those I love dearly and miss while we are apart--and breathe a sigh of calm.

The hubbub is gone for a bit.  Everyone has left.  But I'm not really alone.  He is here.  Now I choose to sit, and rest in Love, and listen.  Yes.  This is good.

the unexpected

Life is full of the unexpected, huh?

I was excited to post pictures of our trees finally budding.  Spring comes late in Colorado, and while many places are in full bloom, we are just barely beginning to green up.  I have been watching for buds on my two trees in the front yard...and they finally appeared!

And today, April 23rd, we woke up to a snow storm!  Pickle has a snow day and Bubba had a snow delay.  I think some popcorn and a movie are in order this afternoon!

And here are my buds today...

Also unexpected this week is that my in-laws visit has been dominated by a rough week for my husband's back. {boo} It is so frustrating and discouraging for him.  He spent a good portion of this week upstairs in our bed while I hung out downstairs with his folks.  Poor guy.  We saw two doctors this week and got no real answers other than the go-ahead to try whatever alternative treatments we want to, and a prescription to try physical therapy again.   We keep praying and asking God to help us find the answer.  I am happy to say that yesterday was a better day, and he was able to go to work.

Whether a snowstorm, back pain, or whatever else comes along, the unexpected keeps us on our toes.  And on our knees.  Nothing catches God by surprise.  I take great comfort in that...

Speaking of being on our toes, we have Pickle's dance recital this weekend.  Here she is at rehearsal last weekend--ready to perform with her worship dance class.

I think she looks lovely.  And that is not a surprise to me at all.  {smile}