Babies on my mind...

I've had babies on my brain today... but not how that phrase is usually intended. It was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I've been thinking of all the beautiful stories of babies who are already in Heaven. Each tiny baby with such huge purpose.

It's been a blessing today to get lots of messages and tags in posts, with people acknowledging Carys. THANK YOU. My day has been non-stop so I didn't even get to really respond to all of them, but they have been very appreciated (and I've most certainly remembered your babies too!!)

This evening, I attended the Remembrance Day balloon release and candle lighting ceremony at Central Park. My dad shared a few words and I was blessed. I am truly thankful for the promise of Heaven. I'm thankful that we don't really "lose" someone when we know where they are.

One moment I wanted to especially share was seeing my siblings walk up to the group with my nephews. Mason, my 6 year old nephew ran out in front of them, holding up a single red rose that he'd taken from his mom's rose bush. He had a huge grin on his face. As he handed me the rose, he said with a very pleased look, "This is for Carys!" My brother let me know it was Mason's idea - he'd wanted to bring me something.

Of course, tears instantly sprang to my eyes, but it was a good thing. She really was here.... and people recognize that.

I've said many times that it seems like I just glossed over an entire year or more. I was in such a fog that it seems now like a long, emotionally draining dream. I know I was there for 2011, but many of my memories are hazy. It's so strange.

Now though, I have pictures and mementos. Her little hand and feet prints, the outfit she wore. Sympathy cards. Best of all, I have a real memory of a baby girl that made her mark on the world in a big way but a short amount of time. A couple of nights ago, I was told "She preached a sermon!" Today, even my 6 year old nephew acknowledged that she really was here. I didn't just dream that she existed.
She was here; and now... she's in Heaven where I am just waiting to see her again.

Not Afraid of Dying...

With everything that has been going on in the world lately, end time prophecies have been on my mind quite a bit. I've heard several sermons from Revelations. Actually, as I write this, there's a sermon on TV from "End Time Ministries." It's turned down low so I can't really hear all of it, but I am getting bits and pieces. "prophesy...matches up...."

Why is it that we live like we're going to be on this earth forever? We won't be.

I feel scared for those who aren't prepared for eternity.


As a Maranomi, I'm a member of a community I never asked to join, and being in the baby loss community, I hear frequent stories of babies dying. It happens. As much as society seems to want to keep it quiet, it happens- and it hurts.

It's difficult to find words to explain the pain of losing a child. It changes everything.

One of the biggest changes for me is that I'm not afraid of dying anymore. I mean... I don't particularly look forward to the process... and I don't want anything to happen to me for the sake of my family and friends who have already had so much happen... but for me, I have a peace about it. After all, I had a glimpse of Heaven, right? I know that I'm ready and I have had a small glimpse of what it's going to be like there.

I found myself wondering today if all the heartbreaking things that happen are all part of God's plan to help us not fear the trials we may face as prophecies continue to play out. We don't fear things as much if we can see them. It's like turning on the lights so a child can see there really isn't a monster in the closet. If we get a glimpse of Heaven, we can see how wonderful it is and not be afraid. Losing close loved ones often gives us an opportunity to touch Heaven if we're in the right spot.

This world will not be here forever. We will not live on earth forever. Prophecy is being fulfilled, and I believe what scripture says is true.


If Christ returned today, would I see you in Heaven?

Please, don't waste a moment. We have a Heavenly Father who loves us. He sent His son to die in our place so we can live in the New Jerusalem... where God's glory radiates off the jeweled walls to reflect rainbows of color in the vast expanse of His love and peace. Will I see you there?

Reasons.

This morning, Paxton screamed at me. A very shrill, clearly unhappy scream accompanied by real tears and little hands trying to swat me away. He didn't get to do what he wanted to do, so he reacted. It's not the first time, it certainly won't be the last. He recovered quickly and let me love on him, but I found myself (in a very therapist-y manner) saying something to him along the lines of, "Honey, I know it's frustrating when you can't do what you want to do, but mommy has reasons. You have to trust me."

Then I pictured God saying the same thing to us at times. "My child, I know it's frustrating when things don't go just how you want them, but I have good reasons. You have to trust me."

Paxton is just 17 months old. Even though I try to help him make the connection between his emotions and appropriate labels for them, he is developmentally not able to really verbalize how he's feeling and what he thinks. So, instead of telling me how he feels, he shows me.

 As a therapist, I'm always amazed at how often we, as communicating adults, don't communicate. We don't tell people what we feel, we show them.

This often also happens in our relationship with God. How tempting is it to poke out our bottom lips, furrow our brows, cross our arms over our chests, and turn away from our Heavenly Father when we don't get what we want when we want it?

Have you ever done that?

God is our loving Heavenly Father. Even when He doesn't allow us to have what we think we want when we want it, He has reasons. He knows exactly what we need. We have to trust Him.

Caption Contest

UPDATE: 10/7/12 -the Entries have been posted for voting on the After The Rainn facebook page... be sure to vote!

Same as always, here's the deal: If I have at least 10 caption entries (from 10 different people) by 11:00 pm on Friday (approximately 48 hours from now), I will then post a poll with the entries and allow voting. 

The caption with the most votes will receive a prize... 

For the prize, I have a (gently used but in great shape) copy of Max Lucado's book, Cure for the Common Life. We ended up with two copies AND the audio book, and it's a great read!

Cure for the Common Life By Max Lucado / Thomas Nelson * You work all day, arrive home exhausted, watch TV to unwind, and then go to bed---only to wake up the next morning and do it again. Is there a remedy for routine? Lucado says yes---and helps you embrace your uniqueness and use your singular talents to experience the "uncommon" life God intends for you. 240 pages, softcover from Nelson.

Happy Captioning!!

(Though I'm sure it won't be an issue, any caption that may be considered as disrespectful will be promptly removed)

We Remember

So, it's just after midnight, but I didn't want to go to bed without responding to the anniversary of 9/11. Throughout the day, I've seen so many posts about where we all were when the tragic news aired. It's hard to believe it's already been 11 years.

I was in my apartment at MVNU. I'd been up late the night before and slept in because I didn't have class (because that's what my college-self could do). My roommate came in, wide-eyed, and asked if I'd seen the news. I ran to the stairs as my apartment-mates gathered around the little television we had.

It seemed unreal.

It was a scary day, but not just because of the terrorism. It was also the day my mom had an emergency, life-saving surgery. I'll have to ask her to share her story for you all here, she has quite the testimony!

It has touched my heart today to see the frequent status updates that gave the simple message, "We remember."

We remember the terror we felt. We remember the shock that our nation was being attacked. We remember  the endless news coverage detailing the horror of the day. We remember the heroes. We remember the stories of emergency workers and civilians alike who put their lives on the line to rescue others. We remember the soldiers who left the comforts of home to defend our country in war. We remember and we're truly grateful.

John 15:13King James Version (KJV)13 Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

We remember.

We remember the somber aftermath as the dust settled. The realization of the heavy significance of the whole ordeal. The emphasis on the fragility of life.

We do remember, don't we? I remember the fullness of churches the following Sundays. I remember the signs asking for prayers for our nation. I remember that our nation seemed to be drawn to our Heavenly Father during the crisis.

Do we really remember? Do we remember that innate desire to cling to God in the middle of the storm?

Please, remember.

God is not only God in the midst of a crisis. He didn't go anywhere. Did you?

Grieving Parents

I have been so very thankful to be surrounded by supportive, understanding people as I have made my way along my grief journey.

Unfortunately, many grieving parents have not experienced the same. I'd like to start finding ways to share the message that pregnancy and infant loss is a loss like any other- and it's "okay" to grieve. In fact, it's unhealthy to avoid grieving.

By all means.... please share.

Thanks!

Weary

In an undergrad art class, I did a charcoal drawing of a model. I enjoyed the process of the assignment. We had a very brief time to do a contour drawing of the model. We were told to rub it out. Another pose, another contour drawing. Rub it out. Repeat. Eventually, we had a very smudged, dark page with outlines of our model in different poses. For the final pose, we "drew" with our eraser to create the image.

I really liked how it turned out. I connected with it. He looked weary, and I've struggled with chronic fatigue for years.

It made it into one of the art shows at the college. Years later, it found its way into a frame in my bedroom. I thought it seemed fitting to hang it in the room where I should be able to find rest.

Through the journey following Carys' diagnosis, I've looked at the image differently. There is a weariness that goes beyond the tired of the end of the day, or even the physical fatigue I've dealt with for years. There's the sheer exhaustion of losing a child. It's the weariness that comes along with being a Maranomi. It affects every area of life and makes the peace and rest of Heaven all the more appealing. 

Though I'm regaining much of my strength, my weariness is like a shadow that seems to follow me. I think it will as long as I live here. Some day, though, my strength will be renewed. Because God always has a plan.

Isaiah 40:28-31

(NIV) 

²⁸ 

Do you not know?
    Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
    and his understanding no one can fathom.
²⁹ He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
³⁰ Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;
³¹ but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
    they will walk and not be faint.