There is a Time for Everything Under the Sun

Our third child didn’t get a baby shower.  Not because historically it’s improper in the book of manners, but because I just didn’t think my heart could handle it.  The last time I had been pregnant with a boy, my friends gathered around me as we ate chocolate and vegetables and artichoke dip, all the while cooing over adorable blue polka dot blankets and all things tender and tiny.  It had been almost four years since I had first become a mom, and with that bit of experience, this time around was a bit sweeter and much more relaxing.  With almost four years of practice under my belt, this was going to be a lot easier, a piece of cake.  I more or less knew how to prepare and what to expect.

I had let my guard down and was burned.  That wasn’t going to happen this time.

My friend recently posted how she had taken almost 1000 pictures of her nephew’s birth, and prior to that, she shared pictures of the shower she hosted for her sister, a celebration of the anticipation of their third child.

I am not one to weep over regrets, but my heart sunk a little.  Why hadn’t I allowed the many who offered to host me a baby shower just do what their hearts wanted to do?  Receiving help is difficult for me.  Pride gets in the way of receiving, because I am a damn strong woman and can do a hell of a lot on my own.  However, I’ve found over time how strength is beautiful in numbers, how relying on God and others is not weakness shown but rather confidence revealed.  Real trust, to the core…an ability to recognize most great masterpieces are made up of more than one color, a brick is solely a brick on its own, and a tree will never grow if the seed isn’t ever planted.

No orchestra is made up on solely one instrument.

And only now, after just having loosely celebrated Ryan’s 3rd birthday (Em was sick, he didn’t know it was his birthday or what that meant, really, and Jason and I were just home from Spain), am I able to understand it wasn’t out of guilt or feeling sorry for me that my friends, old and new, wanted to host me a shower. 

I realize now that a shower is to celebrate the anticipation of the little life about to enter the world, an opportunity to celebrate the woman carrying that life, the waiting parents, and a space for everyone to rejoice.  

There is a time for everything under the sun.  Pregnancy and the anticipation of a child is a time of celebration.  Only when news otherwise is relayed should the celebration turn into mourning.

There is a time for everything under the sun.

We don’t skip bridal showers because we think the poor couple won’t last past the infamous 7-year itch.  We don’t forgo weddings for the same reason.  There is no guarantee, on any given day, we will all make it to the 89 year old mark, so should we all skip cake and ice cream, all the years leading up to our day?   There is no guarantee, only hope and hard work, if our marriages will, indeed, continue happily ever after.  Just because a woman is pregnant does not mean the baby inside of her is meant for this side of Heaven.

And just because my heart was raw, carrying another son in my womb, unsure of the days to come, jaded a bit from loving and losing, doesn’t mean I should have denied my family and friends the opportunity to anticipate and celebrate the life growing in me and the arrival of our newest family member.

I’m not saying it was right or wrong to deny my friends and family a chance to host a shower for me years ago.  What I am saying is, in my selfish attempt to protect my heart from further heartache and disappointment, I shut down and didn’t even allow those who loved me to show their love faithfully as they had in the past.  They had celebrated with us, and also mourned when it was time.  

Birthdays, showers, anniversaries, holidays.  All of these celebrations, though marked with loss and memories, no matter how distant, are indeed, celebrations.

I'm not sure why I'm writing this 4 years from when my friends offered to throw me a shower, but I felt strongly to share my heart.  Maybe you are fearful to celebrate the anticipation of a child on the way, perhaps you have had adoptions fall through and it's scary to let your head and heart go there again.  Maybe fear is gripping you as you allow your heart to fall deeply in love again after the loss of a spouse?  I don't know.

I do know for several months I was fearful Ryan would die, just like his big brother.  And I had really, really, really, really, really fallen in love with Noah.  But I knew Noah was dying, and at the same time, I knew he deserved all my love and I loved him with all of my mommy heart.  I don't live in fear anymore that Ryan is going to die like his brother.  He will die.  I don't know when.  God knows the number of our days.  I do know this, however...I have jumped in with both feet in loving Ryan.  The ache and grief of losing his brother does not hang over me as I flip his curls through my fingers, rub noses, snuggle in our favorite chair while reading, and play choo-choo's in the basement.  I'm in love and it feels really amazing.

Every Single Day is a celebration of the lives around us, even our very own.  Is there someone in your life who needs celebrating today?

The only loss in loving is to look back and realize we never gave it our all.

The Birthday Boy!

Jason and I hugged maybe a little more than normal yesterday. We just kept staring at our son, looking at one another, and then finally stating the obvious, "We have a one year old son. We've never had a one year old son before...Thank You, Lord God, for the blessing of Ryan Graves!"

Not trying to be morbid here or overly dramatic.

The truth is, becoming Emily's parents we were blessed with the awe and realization that nurturing a child is not only a gift but a lifelong mission of great responsibility. When Noah was born this understanding was only solidified, then taken to a deeper awe of cherishing each moment, one day at a time. The day Ryan was born I knew time was precious, even the day to day, un-glamorous stuff.

I'm not going to lie and say I am a perfect steward of every moment of each day. But, as Jason and I recently took the Love Language quiz, it was confirmed that our most treasured language is time. We both topped the charts in this area. (I HIGHLY recommend you heading over there now and taking a few minutes to assess your heart. Then, talk to your loved ones and friends about taking the quiz. We had Em take it and it helped us know what we already did...the girl loves to snuggle and spend quality time with people she loves.) So, wasting time is the ultimate blow to my heart. I don't want to waste yours, I get irritated when I've wasted my own, and let's just say, I'm not a fan if someone has overstepped mine.

All that to say, looking back over the last year, Ryan's first year of life, I've been beyond blessed with the opportunity to hibernate and spend time with a very precious little growing soul. I literally sing songs when he poopies, so thankful he has healthy bowels finally. I love greeting him in the morning, seeing his smile and smothering him with kisses. Snuggling him before bed for a few minutes, praying God's blessings over his life, God's calling and anointing in him to glorify God in all that he does, is one of my favorites times of day...crawling on the floor with him, playing catch and fetch...not just giving him a bottle since he's big enough to hold it, but nuggling him as he inhales every drop. So many things. I do not take these for granted.

I know from what we walked through with Noah and having met and spoken with countless other people who have walked similar roads that time is something to be cherished, it goes quickly, and it's nothing we can ever regain.

So, you've never lost a loved one. You still have healthy parents, grandparents, and your friends and family are healthy as a band of horses. That is totally awesome! It's something to rejoice in!

For the most part, that is my life, too! Yes, my mom has breast cancer but she's, "Stronger than your honor student." Yes, my dad is 66 years old today and can't lift a washer and dryer by himself anymore. I've got a healthy husband, healthy kids, and I'm currently the healthiest I've been in my life and I'm pushing 40...

My point is this...whether you've weathered tragedy personally, walked through it with another person, or only observed it from afar...are you stuck on the hamster wheel or are you thanking and living one day at a time?

Because guess what?! There will ALWAYS be financial troubles, broken bones, disease, torrential weather, infidelity, famine, heartache, disappointment, homelessness, someone else with more stuff, etc, etc.

But, tomorrow isn't promised.

TODAY!

Today, start small. Give a hug. Hold a hand. Smooch some lips. Read with your kids. Forgive. Stop, rest, heal. Listen. Pray. Dip your finger in the frosting and let your kids lick the beaters. Forget the obsessive cleaning for a day and discover that the time you spent instead playing a game is what will put a healthy deposit of love and security in your kids' hearts...your husband's heart.


Jesus said, "...therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has enough trouble of its own..." Matthew 6:34

...and then, "who by worrying can add a single day to his life?"

TODAY! One. Day. At. A. Time.



(I lost my little white thingamajiggy that helps me upload pics...I am headed out to purchase one and will then show you how sweet Ryan was downing his very first allergen free birthday treat!)

5 whole years!

Wow!


A lot has transpired over the last 5 years...

Love.

Elation.

Roller coaster emotions.

Hope.

Trust.

Faith.

Heartache.

Disappointment.

Fear.

Loss.

Peace.

Dying to self.

Doors closed.

New beginnings.

Bitter memories.

Sweet memories.

Eyes opened.

Hope renewed.

Trust still firm.

Faith still boundless.

And a whole lot of love.


In a million years I never imagined that so much life would transpire in just 5 years. When I was in 8th grade I was concerned about 8th grade things: bad hair days, junk food and dumb boys. Five years later while I was a freshman in college I was concerned with freshman things: bad hair days, junk food and dumb boys. :) By five years after I was a freshman in college, I was married, had a job, had moved across the country, was paying bills, making new life long friends, traveling around the world with my husband and sharing God's love with people...my life, perspective and purpose had changed significantly.

In a million years I never would have imagined that five years after giving birth to a baby boy who quite literally melted every part of my heart, that on his big boy 5th birthday he wouldn't be in attendance to his very own celebration.

I cannot believe I actually got to have him in my life for 7 whole months! A lot of mommies and daddies don't have that much time with their kids. I am so very grateful that I was able to enjoy those 7 months with Noah. Looking back, and even while I was in the midst of it, I don't care where that time was spent...all I am thankful for is the fact that I had a son. His name was Noah. He would have been 5 today. And I am richer for knowing him.

Mama loves you bigger than the universe, sweet guy of mine. Always and forever.
Mommy
xoxox

"The path of least resistance..."

...was not meant for me to take. I'm learning how to live on the way."
- Elizabeth Hunnicutt, from her album On The Way (emphasis mine)

Here is a sneak peak at a video I made today that I'll be sharing with a local MOPS group on Tuesday.

It's crazy how 4 years later, looking at all these pics again, the tears still flow just as heavily. I get downright cranky looking at some of the pictures from Noah's stint, aka, life in the hospital. I get pissed that he was ever sick at all...and, I know they are brothers, but seriously!? Ryan looks exactly like Noah to me right now...and though I do stare at him and love on him for being himself, it's hard not to see Noah's face in Ryan's sometimes. Please pray that I can hold it together and share what is on my heart without being a slobbery, bawling mess.

Elizabeth gave me permission to use this song. She didn't realize as she wrote the words from her own heart that they would be words from my very own heart unable to be conveyed. I am so grateful that God has gifted some to be musicians! Thanks, Elizabeth!

(*And, Elizabeth's album is on sale right now in time for Christmas. And, be checking back on her site because she's debuting another album soon! I can't wait!)

Conversations with a 5 year old

July 11th
If Emily looks older in the above picture than she did yesterday, it's because she's 5...but it's also because she learned about Noah today...

I did not intend for it to happen this way, but on the way home from dinner it was just the two of us in the car. (Jason had to leave this afternoon for Chicago.) Anyway, we passed a cemetery and here's what followed:

Em: Mom, what did they do with Grampa Steve's body? (She knows her grampa was buried...)

Me: Well, when our spirits leave our body, we die. There is nothing left to tell our heart to pump so our bodies stop working.

Em: Yeah, like when a car runs out of gas and the person has to leave the car and go look for gas. (Said very matter-of-fact)

Me: (In my head: Uh, yeah, you're so stinking smart!)

Me: That's right, Em! The car just has to sit there on the side of the road. Anyway, when we know the Lord and our spirit goes to Heaven, our bodies are left here on Earth. Some people bury the person that they loved in a coffin. It's a long wooden box with fancy pillows in it and they dress the person nicely and put some preservatives in their body because our bodies decompose when our hearts don't pump our blood. Then they close the box and dig a hole in the ground and cover it up with dirt, grass, flowers and a pretty head stone that says their name and how much they were loved...

Em: (Listening intently...)

Me: And then, well, um...you know how God picked up a handful of dirt and blew life into it and made Adam?

Em: Yeah.

Me: Well, sometimes when people die and their spirits go to Heaven if they loved the Lord, their bodies are put into a big metal box and someone turns a switch that makes it extremely hot and they turn into dust or ash, like Adam. It's called cremation. There's a scripture that talks about how we came from dust and to dust we will return. But even when a person is buried they eventually turn to dust, too.

Em: Do you bury the dust?

Me: Well, some people do, but the ashes or dust are put into a bag and then given to the family of the person who died and they decide what to do with them. They can put those ashes in a pretty jar or bury them or spread them on the beach or a garden or in the ocean. Mommy has a dear friend whose husband wanted his ashes to be put into the ocean because that was his favorite place to be. Then, when the waves move throughout the Earth, it's like his body gets to be a part of it. They are all ways to remember that person.

Em: What did you do with Noah?

Me: (gulp) Well, your daddy and I decided to have Noah's body cremated.

Em: Even his guts and stomach? You can't keep those parts in a box...

Me: Even those parts...all of his body, but it all turns to dust. You see, when a person dies, even though we love them soo soo much, we can't keep part of their body with us, except a lock of hair which I have of Noah's. So that is why people bury the body of the person they loved or have them cremated. Then they can either go visit where they are buried or have it at their house in a pretty jar or spread their ashes in the ocean, for example, to remember that person...

Em: Where are Noah's ashes?

Me: Do you remember the day we left for South Dakota when daddy needed to run an errand by himself?

Em: Yes.

Me: Well, your daddy was picking up Noah's ashes. I know it took a long time, but we were too sad to do it until then. They are in a bag in a sweet wooden box that has his name on it and a teddy bear...

Em: Wow! I can't believe his ashes fit in a small little box! I want to see it...

Me: It's at home in Noah's room. I'll show you when we get home, sweetie.

Em: I want to keep Noah's dust with us. I don't want to throw him in the ocean or sprinkle him in different places.

Me: Okay. (Now going with the flow, different from original plan...) We'll keep his ashes altogether with us...

Me: Em, what do you think about all this?

Em: It's okay. I think we should just leave it like you did it...

Me: (Yeah...pretty much have to since these things are irreversible!)

So, I talked to Jason tonight and told him about our conversation. He felt badly that I had to do it alone, but I told him it seemed to turn out okay, better than the day we got home from the hospital and he started to tell her about a big oven! Em had asked Jason what they did with his body at the hospital. She said, "Did they throw his body in the trash can?" We told her 'No', but then Jason started to tell her about a big oven. I gave him a serious elbow in the ribs and whispered in his ear that you put cookies in an oven, not a little brother! She lost interest and went and played with her aunts and uncles...

Now she knows...she seemed to be at peace with it all. I guess I didn't know when we'd have to explain cremation, but knowing her, I knew it would be sooner than later.