A good friend today has suffered a great loss. Her husband had his graduation day of life. It is all too soon, leaving behind his young wife and two young daughters. Today is a day that she and family mourns and those that love her family mourn as well.
The other day I overheard Joseph, my 5 yr old, asking his Daddy about bees. He said, "Bees are bad aren't they, Daddy, because they sting?!?" Joseph, as most kids, is terrified of anything that will cause him physical pain. Alex's reply was that "No, bees aren't bad. They make honey. You definitely don't want to get stung by one but they have good purposes as well." It made me reflect on the verse in Scripture, "Death, where is your sting?"
As Denise and those around her have learned today, death, like bees, has a definite sting. I suppose it is unfair to even compare death with a bee sting. As I try to put myself in Denise's shoes today, I visualize her leaving his bedside for the last time after standing vigilantly by for 40 plus days believing for a miracle. I try to understand what it must be like to get in your car and just go home. Like somehow today is like any other day, the routine so normal. It almost seems heartless for time and space not to bend or change to her circumstance. I can hardly stomach the thought of her crossing over the threshold of the door of her home, knowing that his feet would never cross there again. There is definite reason to mourn, to hurt and to feel ever so real the sting of death.
Just like bees, there is purpose in death. It will never be right in my mind as long as I'm mortal that someone suffers or leaves us too soon. Yet death in itself is actually relief from the painful mortal condition that we call life. Let's face it. Life is not a party. While it produces so many great joys and pleasures, it also just as often produces hardship and pain. This type of life ending is actually sweet relief when we believe that our afterlife is absent of the ripple effects of sin. As honey is in contrast to a bee's sting, so is death in contrast to mortal, limited, challenging "life".
I believe wholeheartedly in living life to its full-- every day with purpose, focusing on the joys and minimizing the sorrows. If it helps Denise at all, or anyone else who is acquainted with the pain of death, while it appears with our human eyes to be the final chapter, it is actually just the beginning of what was intended to sweeten our existence here on earth.
Denise, it takes faith. But I believe that one day you will see him again. That you will know him and he will know you. That when you next see him, you will never again experience separation. I believe he knows peace, love and joy to an ever greater degree than our human minds can contain today. And for that I envy him. Today, he knows Jesus fully. One day, thank goodness, we all will. But I know today, all the faith in heaven, doesn't make you miss him any less, nor mean that you won't miss him every day until you see him again. As God promises, He is near the broken-hearted, and may His Spirit be sweet like honey. Love you, sister!
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
When You Throw Mud, You Lose Ground.
That is a quote by Albert Einstein. Saw it on my kid's juice box. Inspiration can come from the strangest of places. But ironically it made me think of them and an important lesson I have been trying to teach them.
I've mentioned before in my blogging that my boys are competitive. To be frank, I find it obnoxious. It's not that they are competitive and like to win. It's that they are still children and think winning is defeating their own brother. They think making the other feel bad because they got the bigger slice of cake is the key to happiness and success. Somehow, their successes make them better than the other, instead of seeing them as a corporate win. I always make them repeat, "We are on the same team. We will not fight."
For Christmas, we bought them tickets to the Dallas Stars vs. Edmonton Oilers hockey game. They were so excited. The game was about 2 weeks after Christmas and everyday, Zachary, my youngest, would ask, "Hockey tomorrow?". When we got in our seats, they were mesmerized. No smiles (they posed for the pic of course), just blank stares, as their senses were overloaded, but their hearts were stimulated with glee.
During the game, two players from the opposing team made a colossal collide. You couldn't miss it. They ended up on the ground as everyone else sprinted for the Oiler's end of the rink. The Dallas Stars had a 5 man-3 man advantage for what was only mere seconds but felt like much longer. I looked at Joseph, my oldest, who I was sitting beside and said, "Great example of why you don't fight with your own team member."
I understand fighting to progress forward. We don't need to avoid conflict. But throwing mud is not working through conflict. Throwing mud is tearing another down or exalting yourself unnecessarily. It is wasteful conflict that only makes one feel temporarily better but does nothing to build up the other.
This life tool is know who's on your team- your husband, your wife, your kids, your co-workers, your partners, your friends. When you tear them down, you are hurting yourself. Maybe Albert Einstein felt like too much mud had come his way, and his inspiration for these words was to encourage himself not to quit. After all, great minds are rarely understood by the masses until after their time. However you need the reminder today, use it to help yourself keep the ground firm beneath you.
I've mentioned before in my blogging that my boys are competitive. To be frank, I find it obnoxious. It's not that they are competitive and like to win. It's that they are still children and think winning is defeating their own brother. They think making the other feel bad because they got the bigger slice of cake is the key to happiness and success. Somehow, their successes make them better than the other, instead of seeing them as a corporate win. I always make them repeat, "We are on the same team. We will not fight."
For Christmas, we bought them tickets to the Dallas Stars vs. Edmonton Oilers hockey game. They were so excited. The game was about 2 weeks after Christmas and everyday, Zachary, my youngest, would ask, "Hockey tomorrow?". When we got in our seats, they were mesmerized. No smiles (they posed for the pic of course), just blank stares, as their senses were overloaded, but their hearts were stimulated with glee.
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| Daddy, Zachary (3) and Joseph (5) |
During the game, two players from the opposing team made a colossal collide. You couldn't miss it. They ended up on the ground as everyone else sprinted for the Oiler's end of the rink. The Dallas Stars had a 5 man-3 man advantage for what was only mere seconds but felt like much longer. I looked at Joseph, my oldest, who I was sitting beside and said, "Great example of why you don't fight with your own team member."
I understand fighting to progress forward. We don't need to avoid conflict. But throwing mud is not working through conflict. Throwing mud is tearing another down or exalting yourself unnecessarily. It is wasteful conflict that only makes one feel temporarily better but does nothing to build up the other.
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| Zachary worn out after game. |
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
One Tick of the Clock
The profound implications of one tick of the clock just gave the whole world a fresh start. We said "later haters" to 2011 and rejoiced at the freedom we feel of letting go of our failed expectations of ourselves and others that the moments on the clock in 2011 did not fulfill. Now, here we are with a renewed vigor and the gyms are packed again, excel has had an increased use for new created schedules, and people walk around lighter, happier knowing they've got another chance to do it better. Just one tick of the clock...
Perhaps what we have missed is that tick of the clock comes every day, every week and every month. I understand that as a human race we gather with pomp and circumstance around the change of the New Year. I love it too. And somehow since everyone believes it, it must be true that I really have a new start. Yet each night as we rest and the clock ticks to a new day the lack of celebration does nothing to stir my emotional belief that I got another chance to do it again. Even though it is true, that I got the same new beginning each night, each week and each month, it just doesn't have the same affect on my psyche as the turn of the New Year.
And that is my point. That balls dropping, sparkling effects, champagne toasting, and the one time a year we stay up past midnight is all worth it. But it isn't what actually gave you the new start. The new start simply came with one tick of the clock.
So if you've already failed at your new resolve at the New Year or failed to set any resolve at all. There is another tick of the clock telling you it is a new day headed your way. And if time hasn't given up on you, then neither has God. There is still something to do. Don't let the emotion of the holiday rob you from making the real change you want in your own life today.
And this life tool, my friends, I need every day. New starts are not banished to only the New Year. They are specially designed into each new day with just one tick of the clock.
Perhaps what we have missed is that tick of the clock comes every day, every week and every month. I understand that as a human race we gather with pomp and circumstance around the change of the New Year. I love it too. And somehow since everyone believes it, it must be true that I really have a new start. Yet each night as we rest and the clock ticks to a new day the lack of celebration does nothing to stir my emotional belief that I got another chance to do it again. Even though it is true, that I got the same new beginning each night, each week and each month, it just doesn't have the same affect on my psyche as the turn of the New Year.
And that is my point. That balls dropping, sparkling effects, champagne toasting, and the one time a year we stay up past midnight is all worth it. But it isn't what actually gave you the new start. The new start simply came with one tick of the clock.
So if you've already failed at your new resolve at the New Year or failed to set any resolve at all. There is another tick of the clock telling you it is a new day headed your way. And if time hasn't given up on you, then neither has God. There is still something to do. Don't let the emotion of the holiday rob you from making the real change you want in your own life today.
And this life tool, my friends, I need every day. New starts are not banished to only the New Year. They are specially designed into each new day with just one tick of the clock.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
What You Are Looking For
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| My "add value" list, too long for now, but here's a few faces... |
Like, the other day, I had a friend and her son over for dinner. We share Tuesday nights together because both of our husbands work. I had bought a roasted chicken and made some sides. As we cleaned up from dinner, she offered to cut the remaining chicken off the bone into a smaller container. Me, not being a domestic diva, found the thought enlightening. Normally, I would put the half eaten chicken in the fridge convincing myself that even though the last 18 times we didn't eat it, we would this time. But thanks to the brilliance of my friend, the next day I made soup with the pieces of chicken. Just by seeing it in a different form, I was able to use it in a different way. Value added. Check.
The next day another equally great friend out of the blue asked me "How's your writing coming along?" My honest response, "I'm struggling with feeling so vulnerable. There are so many great writers out there how can I possibly add anything. So I just haven't picked it back up." Her response, "Why does it have to be the best writing out there?!?" Point made. Value added.
We coin words in our culture that take on extra meaning. For example, "dreams" or "purpose" or "calling", these words for some bring great inspiration but for others leave them feeling left out. The concept feels abstract. Somewhere there is a desire to make a difference but they don't feel tugged or even worse feel overwhelmed at the thought of speaking to thousands in a coliseum or opening an orphanage in Haiti or even making large amounts of money. So how do they find what they are looking for? Where does their life make a mark that will not be easily forgotten when dead and gone. It seems as though everyone desires to be remembered for something.
You find purpose by being purpose where you are. Everyone's life imprint looks different so don't think unless I find my name in credit reels, have the most friends on facebook, or leave a lasting piece of art that you have missed your mark. If you use your experiences, your talents and your concern for others to add value to someone else's life, just like my friends did for me above, then you have found purpose. The more you become what others are looking for, the more you will find that your life has become exactly what you are looking for.
Now maybe you cynics are saying but I'd rather be Friend #2 than Friend #1. Really?!? Because these added equal value in my life. Cooking meals does not come easy for me. In fact making a meal, the thought process, the time, the emotional effort, then hoping and praying my children will eat it, and my husband won't say "don't make that again, it upsets my stomach." That process takes longer and is far more arduous than writing this blog. Seriously. Don't ever prejudge the value of your contribution to someone else.
It must be said that adding value and sharing your opinion are not the same thing. It helps to have a firm grasp on the difference. Value is providing what someone needed when they needed it and an opinion is something they can do without. Their response and feedback will help you know which one you did.
This life tool is everyone has value to offer another. Seems like everyone is searching for "purpose" like its the new energy source that will solve the world's problems. Just add value with one person, then another, then another, and before you know it, the next time you hear someone challenge you in your purpose or dreams, you will know exactly what yours is!
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Afraid of the Dark
One of my best friend's son is 6 (let's call him Justin) and he is a bit advanced for his age. One night I was laying in bed playing Scrabble, trying to distract my brain from my pregnancy sickness so that I could fall asleep, and I sent this friend a text asking how Justin's first day of school was. This is how the next little bit of correspondence went,
J- "It was asome Justin wrote this"
Me- "Glad you had fun!"
J- "This is Justin iam texting you"
Me- "Yes. I'm happy that you had a good day :)."
J- "Thx!!!"
J- "I am in the mists of that darkness" And he had attached this picture.
Me- "Does your momma know you got her phone?"
And she did know.
We continued our discussion until we agreed we were both tired. But we set a date to play friend Scrabble that next day at 4:30 since, "I have a tite schedule I wake up for school at 6:45am and my mom pick me up at about 3:30pm they only time i probraly about 4:30pm." So our date was set.
I share this to put a smile on your face, because kids are too funny. What I find most interesting is that Justin, being 6, was in the "mists" of the darkness, and he was not afraid.
I was very afraid of the dark as a child. I can remember thinking there were people under my bed that would grab my feet if I touched the floor. And, for sure, there was something in my closet that was bound to get me if the door wasn't closed. I would clutch my covers around my neck as if they had mighty powers to save me, while I sweat miserably.
I can also remember, in the darkness at night, while trying to fall asleep, asking Jesus over and over again to save me from Hell. I was so afraid of life after death, the things I did not understand and it tormented me at night. I look back and wonder why I never talked to my mom or dad about it. Why did I wrestle with that fear and never give them an opportunity to shed some light on the topic? I didn't know that the the right answer from a trusted friend can stop a questioning fear.
As an adult, I overcame the fear of believing in strange creatures or monsters under the bed, but overcoming the fear of the darkness in our heart is another issue. I went through a course to work on me and found a greater sense of understanding about not feeling fear, unforgiveness, rejection, anxiety, pride, jealousy, and the list goes on. I didn't completely rid myself of these feelings, because that just is not realistic, but I found a helpful path of processing them to allow them out as easily as they came in. I learned to not give these feelings an opportunity to create harmful places inside my heart.
The real test came shortly after I finished the course. I had taken a walk with my husband and we had pulled our oldest, who was 18 mos at the time, behind us in the wagon. Since I had just completed a course on recognizing "issues" in my own life, I apparently now found myself an expert at recognizing them in his. To keep the peace, I didn't mention what I noticed, but I definitely returned to the house unsettled in my mind that he couldn't notice these things about himself. I sat down in our den frustrated. There was music playing, a kid's CD that we had accidentally left on. It just happened to be a song that goes, "I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid of the darkness." As sweetly as the song played, I heard the voice of God say, "you cannot be afraid of his darkness."
I have a friend who says that some people are experts at putting lipstick on a pig. I think as women we do this for our husbands and our children to protect ourselves. It has nothing to do with protecting their need for respect but everything to do with how their behavior effects us. We respond out of fear and we address them abruptly expecting them to change quickly. We surely don't want anyone thinking bad about us because of what they did or God forbid, how they dress :).
In that moment, I knew that just like God revealed to me what needed to change in me, He would do the same for my husband. And just like I have to go through experiences that expose my pride in order for me to get rid of my pride, my husband would have to do the same. Trying to detour him around these experiences would only delay the result. The same goes for my children. I've got to allow them to experience their own hurts, their own mistakes, their own losses and then be there as a guiding force through it.
I was wrong that day in my assessment of my husband. I can still remember that my son was in the wagon singing the verses of Amazing Grace. If only I had allowed myself to be captivated by not only his ability but his heart in that moment, I would remember that walk with my family that day fondly. I robbed myself of that moment.
This life tool is to talk about what is in the dark. It's the main secret I learned in that class. If we will just talk about it and tell a trusted source, we will see it more clearly as we move it from the concealed place. In our ability to see it more clearly, we will have more insight in what to do with it. You can't expose someone else's darkness because you really can not know what is in there. It's dark. Why do you think you can see into it? But you get the privilege of feeling around your own darkness, and you know exactly how full or empty it is.
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| The darkness in which Justin peered. |
Me- "Glad you had fun!"
J- "This is Justin iam texting you"
Me- "Yes. I'm happy that you had a good day :)."
J- "Thx!!!"
J- "I am in the mists of that darkness" And he had attached this picture.
Me- "Does your momma know you got her phone?"
And she did know.
We continued our discussion until we agreed we were both tired. But we set a date to play friend Scrabble that next day at 4:30 since, "I have a tite schedule I wake up for school at 6:45am and my mom pick me up at about 3:30pm they only time i probraly about 4:30pm." So our date was set.
I share this to put a smile on your face, because kids are too funny. What I find most interesting is that Justin, being 6, was in the "mists" of the darkness, and he was not afraid.
I was very afraid of the dark as a child. I can remember thinking there were people under my bed that would grab my feet if I touched the floor. And, for sure, there was something in my closet that was bound to get me if the door wasn't closed. I would clutch my covers around my neck as if they had mighty powers to save me, while I sweat miserably.
I can also remember, in the darkness at night, while trying to fall asleep, asking Jesus over and over again to save me from Hell. I was so afraid of life after death, the things I did not understand and it tormented me at night. I look back and wonder why I never talked to my mom or dad about it. Why did I wrestle with that fear and never give them an opportunity to shed some light on the topic? I didn't know that the the right answer from a trusted friend can stop a questioning fear.
As an adult, I overcame the fear of believing in strange creatures or monsters under the bed, but overcoming the fear of the darkness in our heart is another issue. I went through a course to work on me and found a greater sense of understanding about not feeling fear, unforgiveness, rejection, anxiety, pride, jealousy, and the list goes on. I didn't completely rid myself of these feelings, because that just is not realistic, but I found a helpful path of processing them to allow them out as easily as they came in. I learned to not give these feelings an opportunity to create harmful places inside my heart.
The real test came shortly after I finished the course. I had taken a walk with my husband and we had pulled our oldest, who was 18 mos at the time, behind us in the wagon. Since I had just completed a course on recognizing "issues" in my own life, I apparently now found myself an expert at recognizing them in his. To keep the peace, I didn't mention what I noticed, but I definitely returned to the house unsettled in my mind that he couldn't notice these things about himself. I sat down in our den frustrated. There was music playing, a kid's CD that we had accidentally left on. It just happened to be a song that goes, "I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid of the darkness." As sweetly as the song played, I heard the voice of God say, "you cannot be afraid of his darkness."
I have a friend who says that some people are experts at putting lipstick on a pig. I think as women we do this for our husbands and our children to protect ourselves. It has nothing to do with protecting their need for respect but everything to do with how their behavior effects us. We respond out of fear and we address them abruptly expecting them to change quickly. We surely don't want anyone thinking bad about us because of what they did or God forbid, how they dress :).
In that moment, I knew that just like God revealed to me what needed to change in me, He would do the same for my husband. And just like I have to go through experiences that expose my pride in order for me to get rid of my pride, my husband would have to do the same. Trying to detour him around these experiences would only delay the result. The same goes for my children. I've got to allow them to experience their own hurts, their own mistakes, their own losses and then be there as a guiding force through it.
I was wrong that day in my assessment of my husband. I can still remember that my son was in the wagon singing the verses of Amazing Grace. If only I had allowed myself to be captivated by not only his ability but his heart in that moment, I would remember that walk with my family that day fondly. I robbed myself of that moment.
This life tool is to talk about what is in the dark. It's the main secret I learned in that class. If we will just talk about it and tell a trusted source, we will see it more clearly as we move it from the concealed place. In our ability to see it more clearly, we will have more insight in what to do with it. You can't expose someone else's darkness because you really can not know what is in there. It's dark. Why do you think you can see into it? But you get the privilege of feeling around your own darkness, and you know exactly how full or empty it is.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Deeply Well
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| Something he can do! |
Quite honestly, I see myself in him. Not something I'm proud to admit. I like to think I've matured enough that I have figured out how to pick up and move on. But I still enjoy my moments of wallowing, however brief or long they may be, where I get an opportunity to cry and express my disgust with the situation. I've actually come to believe there is nothing wrong with these moments. What matters is what happens next.
I'm married to a man who doesn't let me wallow long. I haven't always appreciated him for this. He's a great communicator and will hear me out on how I feel about things. But because he lives his life at such a standard of "no excuses", he, quicker than I prefer most times, eventually ends these types of conversations with some gentle way of telling me to "suck it up". I typically walk away a little bruised and left to think.
We spent nearly 5 years building a business together and these years were such a thrill. Through arguing and debating in the first year, we found our groove. We figured out who should be doing what, how the other one operated, and felt released to trust each other to do what we said we would. We worked grueling hours, had high expectations of ourselves and we loved every minute of it! Once we hit our stride, the business grew through all these years and we were so fulfilled not only by our success but by our relationship.
When our first son was born, I decided to stay home and I found myself really struggling. Oh goodness, I was so tired, never thought being that tired was possible. I had handed over every personal whim to the needs of this child. I had to abandon myself to be his mother. But at the same time, I was mourning the loss of productivity at work, I was feeling lonely in my relationship with Alex now that we didn't have the same schedule, and I was resenting him for still working his relentless schedule when I needed him more than ever. This was one of those times that I discussed earlier where he would hear me out, but ultimately not agree that I couldn't go on. He wasn't insensitive to me. He just needed me to stop saying, "I can't", and start saying, "I can".
Now that I'm a stay at home mother of two (soon-to-be three), business partner to my husband (which involves my daily emotional accessibility, regular traveling, speaking, mentoring and much more) and recently an Elder at Covenant Church, the thought of only having a newborn sounds like a vacation. I look back at that season when I always felt like he didn't understand, a little bruised that he wasn't more sensitive, and I realize that I was growing a deep well so that I could become deeply well.
Sometimes the words, "I can't" just come out as a natural reaction to life feeling hard. As I more closely examine my heart, I normally find there is something else in there for me to give. It might require me to dig a little deeper than I thought possible but by reaching deeper to give out for my kids, my husband, and others I can help, I find that in fact I run much deeper than I think. And truly I become stronger, capable of handling more, as I choose to expand my capacity.
This life tool is try saying "I can!" more often even when you don't feel like it. We are capable of so much more than we realize. I give you permission to take your moment, have your meltdown, feel your feelings. It is all real. But at some point you've got to get up square your shoulders and decide there is something more inside of you that you can give. Mad love to those of you who have been forced to dig deeper through major life traumas and come out changed and stronger on the other side. We've all gone through things that we didn't want to go through and we can relate to being grateful for them. Yet victory can also be won when we aren't forced, we just choose to give at that deeper level. What we find there might just change us for the better.
"Only people who find the deeper well can become deeply well, and only such people can be an enriching force in creating a well culture." -Dick Staub
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
The Moment that Matters Most
It's hard to be a mom. Perhaps the hardest thing of all is the realization that after being given this precious, most amazing being, you can lose it. Everything is temporal in this life whether it gets consumed, deteriorates, or dies. There isn't anything that I can think of that lasts except our actions that sow forward into our future and the future of others. It's the only thing that can have lasting impact. History tells us this is true, but it also records all other temporal things in an attempt to cling to those things which aren't intended to last forever. It's good to remember. I'm not dissing history. It's just the hardest thing for us to accept that which we love won't always be here and it haunts us as mothers.
I remember when I gave birth to my first son I thought it was the most awe-inspiring experience I had ever had. I wasn't moved to tears because I was so stunned and excited. In fact, I didn't cry at all until they wheeled me out of the hospital to my car with this little, most unexpected creature in my lap. I realized that now I was responsible for not breaking him and consequently my now very fragile heart. About 6 months later, after so many anxiety ridden days of checking to be sure he was still breathing, eating just right, never exposed to germs and probably calling the pediatrician too many times, I was driving in the car wrestling with God saying I can't trust you with him until I heard Him say so clear, "What other choice do you have?" So simple, but so profound. While he was still breathing and doing just fine, I had become more aware than ever in the last 6 months that doing everything I could, would never be enough to ensure nothing would happen to him. And yet again, God wins :).
Through this struggle, I have come to believe that there is a moment in a child's life that is the most important of all. Since everything in life is temporal, and boy, some days that is a real blessing. It doesn't feel like a blessing when it comes to the people we love. But here is where it gets a little sticky because I definitely do not want to push my belief system upon you. It does seem like most people, in their attempt to understand this life is not permanent, believe in something after life, and even believe in some ultimate Being. If this is your core understanding, then you can hang with me. I believe there is life after death and while I'm not real sure of what we will look like, I believe we will know one another. This means that when life seems over, it actually just began in another realm. That realm isn't temporal but is permanent. Meaning there, in that place, my precious, unexpected beings, that ravished my heart, will last forever. With this understanding, it becomes obvious that the moment of conception is the most significant because it just created another eternal being that will last forever.
I have 4 moments of conception and no matter what happens from this day forward I have 4 beings in eternity. On Sept 15, 2005, I miscarried a baby girl. Her name is Lucy, which means light, if any of you beat me there. She will have a special glow when you meet her. My two beloved sons, Joseph and Zachary, who are still here on Earth. Lord willing, I will beat them there, but at least I have the comfort of knowing that we have a designated meeting place should we get separated. And, yes, that leaves one more. You all are good at math, I can tell.
With that lengthy, but fitting intro, we did find out on July 19th that we are expecting again. Baby Fitz #3 will be joining us around April 1st, and no, this is no April Fool's joke. Here's the proof in the picture. Just what you wanted to see, I know.
I know this blog challenges the whole issue of abortion and I'm not trying to be controversial. It's just the only way I can rationalize the fear of losing a child, and maybe it could heal the heart of someone who might be broken by the decision of abortion to know that even that decision wasn't as permanent as it felt since the most significant moment happened at conception. I do most definitely believe in the purpose of our days, but this brings peace, in my rationale, to some haunting realities of life.
This life tool is to remember that some moments that might go unnoticed are actually the most significant moments of life. Don't fret, I adore my husband as well and believe when we married, I was bound with him for eternity as well. There is just something about the love combined with the responsibility that we feel for our children that makes our ability to think rationally about them so much more challenging. (Ok, its just as hard to think rationally about our husbands too but that's for other blogs :)). Sometimes, a little shift in our perspective can bring a sense of peace that we didn't think was possible.
Add'l Note: I apologize for not blogging for the last 2 weeks. I have been very sick from this pregnancy making it difficult for my brain to write. So, I don't make a lot of promises for the near future, but I will be back in full force shortly.
I remember when I gave birth to my first son I thought it was the most awe-inspiring experience I had ever had. I wasn't moved to tears because I was so stunned and excited. In fact, I didn't cry at all until they wheeled me out of the hospital to my car with this little, most unexpected creature in my lap. I realized that now I was responsible for not breaking him and consequently my now very fragile heart. About 6 months later, after so many anxiety ridden days of checking to be sure he was still breathing, eating just right, never exposed to germs and probably calling the pediatrician too many times, I was driving in the car wrestling with God saying I can't trust you with him until I heard Him say so clear, "What other choice do you have?" So simple, but so profound. While he was still breathing and doing just fine, I had become more aware than ever in the last 6 months that doing everything I could, would never be enough to ensure nothing would happen to him. And yet again, God wins :).
Through this struggle, I have come to believe that there is a moment in a child's life that is the most important of all. Since everything in life is temporal, and boy, some days that is a real blessing. It doesn't feel like a blessing when it comes to the people we love. But here is where it gets a little sticky because I definitely do not want to push my belief system upon you. It does seem like most people, in their attempt to understand this life is not permanent, believe in something after life, and even believe in some ultimate Being. If this is your core understanding, then you can hang with me. I believe there is life after death and while I'm not real sure of what we will look like, I believe we will know one another. This means that when life seems over, it actually just began in another realm. That realm isn't temporal but is permanent. Meaning there, in that place, my precious, unexpected beings, that ravished my heart, will last forever. With this understanding, it becomes obvious that the moment of conception is the most significant because it just created another eternal being that will last forever.
I have 4 moments of conception and no matter what happens from this day forward I have 4 beings in eternity. On Sept 15, 2005, I miscarried a baby girl. Her name is Lucy, which means light, if any of you beat me there. She will have a special glow when you meet her. My two beloved sons, Joseph and Zachary, who are still here on Earth. Lord willing, I will beat them there, but at least I have the comfort of knowing that we have a designated meeting place should we get separated. And, yes, that leaves one more. You all are good at math, I can tell.
With that lengthy, but fitting intro, we did find out on July 19th that we are expecting again. Baby Fitz #3 will be joining us around April 1st, and no, this is no April Fool's joke. Here's the proof in the picture. Just what you wanted to see, I know.
I know this blog challenges the whole issue of abortion and I'm not trying to be controversial. It's just the only way I can rationalize the fear of losing a child, and maybe it could heal the heart of someone who might be broken by the decision of abortion to know that even that decision wasn't as permanent as it felt since the most significant moment happened at conception. I do most definitely believe in the purpose of our days, but this brings peace, in my rationale, to some haunting realities of life.
This life tool is to remember that some moments that might go unnoticed are actually the most significant moments of life. Don't fret, I adore my husband as well and believe when we married, I was bound with him for eternity as well. There is just something about the love combined with the responsibility that we feel for our children that makes our ability to think rationally about them so much more challenging. (Ok, its just as hard to think rationally about our husbands too but that's for other blogs :)). Sometimes, a little shift in our perspective can bring a sense of peace that we didn't think was possible.
Add'l Note: I apologize for not blogging for the last 2 weeks. I have been very sick from this pregnancy making it difficult for my brain to write. So, I don't make a lot of promises for the near future, but I will be back in full force shortly.
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