A Lesson After 6 Years

There is a huge misunderstanding that follows grieving people around (especially at the beginning of that journey). 

You think we don't want to hear about you and your people. 

Trust me when I say I want you to tell me about your people.  I want you to share the good and the bad about your kids and your families.  Tell me when they experience "firsts" that consequently change your life.  Share when they make you so mad you want to cry or scream or both.  Tell me how your little people are the same age that Charlie would be because I want to remember him too and dream about all the new things we would be experiencing everyday.  Laugh with me about the silly things your kids do and share the funny stories.  Tell me when you have absolutely had it and need a break because I will gladly go grab a margarita with you! 

I do not want you to ever stop yourself from saying something that seems insignificant compared to what others have walked through or what you know I have walked through.  I truly believe after walking through this grief and walking with others through small pieces of their grief journey that our grief and heartaches cannot be compared.  They are absolutely not meant to be compared.  I have said it before and I will say it again, "The worst lost is always yours."  We have to vow to sit in hard spaces with others when they are experiencing their hard moments and I am so thankful I have people that have done that for me over the past 6 years.  We need to make space for that.   

Charlie died 6 years ago today and I will never forget that day.  It makes me ache for him.  It makes me question so many things, but then I remember I have hope.  I have hope that I will see him again in Heaven. 

So while I am waiting here on Earth I need people to continue to share all the things I mentioned above because it is your joy and happiness that makes me remember why it is so worth it to be completely resistless and wide open with our love for others.         

God's Goodness

God promises us so many things.  He blesses us more fully than we can comprehend.  One scripture that continually comes to my mind is the verse in Romans that says, "...And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."  He promises us good things when we love him. 

Now, I realize this statement coming from a bereaved momma may seem odd or may be difficult to understand for some.  I can look back and tell you that I did not always think this scripture was true.  I didn't think there was any possible way that good things could come from Charlie's death.  I even asked God (many times) why he would write something like that in scripture when I was uncovering how impossible it was on a daily basis.  But I kept asking and wrestling with God and I eventually began uncovering small things that I would call "good" along the way. 

Now I know that good things can come from death, even my own son's death.  It is still kind of hard to write that, and actually even harder to feel it in my heart.  How can a mother think good things could come from their child passing away?  It is probably counter-culture to walk through grief and want to experience joy and "good things" but I am learning how crucial it is to do that in order to heal.  Walking through grief (the hard and painful emotions) to experience joy (the good Jesus promises us) is what God created us to do.  For everything there is a season.  He doesn't want us to get stuck in grief.  He wants us to walk through it and let it change us but not destroy us.     

I wish I could share all the ways God has stretched and strengthened my heart.  I wish you could feel how deeply I want Charlie back in my normal day to day while I continue to walk without him.  I wish I could share how God has healed me enough to continue to share my story.  I wish I could explain how I have learned how much more important it is to listen than speak.  But more than anything else I wish you could have seen the unraveling of the story that I experienced tonight that was SO far from my mind when I walked into the Russell's home.     

Tonight I was able to finally see all the pieces and parts of a web God had been weaving for YEARS come undone for two people that probably needed the joy that rocked our world more than anyone else in that moment.  Unbeknownst to me when I walked into bible study tonight I met Caleb's mom.  And for those of you that do not know, Caleb is right next to Charlie at St. Stephen Cemetery. 

I have prayed over his family.  I have left things at his grave.  I have thought to myself, the boys must be playing together up in heaven.  I have asked God to introduce me to Caleb's mom.  And in the most unlikely of circumstances tonight (four YEARS after Caleb's headstone was set) we met and we hugged.  We shed tears over our boys and their memory and if I had to guess we found a friend in one another that understands the deepest part of our soul tonight.  We found a friendship that could not possibly have been formed without the bond of our babies in heaven. 

I'd do anything to have Charlie back but since this side of heaven I don't have that choice I will take my new friend as a "good thing" God is giving me to help me walk through the tough stuff while I am here on Earth.  And thank goodness he wants us to do life with people because tonight that was exactly what I needed at the exact moment that I needed it.  I am thankful for that blessing.  I am thankful he cares deeply enough to weave a new friend into my life on the exact same day that my kids got out of the car after school and I started crying because I missed my boy.         

No One is Thirsty in Heaven

It's been a few months since I have written down my thoughts to share with all of you.

But for a very special reason, today seemed like the perfect day to jump back on and say...

THANK YOU.

Thank you for trusting me and my crazy ideas.
Thank you for sharing your hard earned money with us for charity: water.
Thank you for loving our family whole heartedly.
Thank you for joining a cause our family thinks is so important.
Thank you for giving your money for water instead of a coffee.
Thank you for grieving with us.
Thank you for helping us find joy in our deepest sorrow.
Thank you for walking next to us.
Thank you for holding us up.
Thank you for believing with us that charity: water is the real deal.
Thank you for thinking of others before yourself.
Thank you for taking time to click on our story and read it.
Thank you for trusting that good can come from the ugly in our world.
Thank you for the time you took to stop scrolling through your feed to donate.
Thank you for praying for us diligently.
Thank you for celebrating with us.
Thank you for trusting in the Lord and sharing that hope with us.
Thank you for allowing us to be a small part of a nearly $10,000 fundraiser!
Thank you for never giving up.
Thank you for sharing this birthday celebration with all your friends and family.
Thank you for giving $5 and $500!
Thank you for listening to the Holy Spirit telling you to give.
Thank you for being who God made you to be.
Thank you for learning with us how to walk through grief.
Thank you for saying Charlie's name.
Thank you for remembering our boy by giving others clean water.
Thank you for taking to heart our favorite phrase as of late, "No one is thirsty in heaven!"
Thank you for honoring our son.

This post could probably go on for eternity because the weight of what you just did will bring light to our dark world and will echo through the lives of many families in the most positive way for years and years to come.

Water is our most basic need and you just helped to share that basic need with another person.  You are the hands and feet of Jesus and we are thankful for you! 

We couldn't have had the impact we did without you!

#charlielove  #nooneisthirstyinheaven

Treasures from the Eye Doctor

Today we stopped by Charlie's grave.  It looked like it was going to rain but we snuck over anyway.  The twins had been to the eye doctor the day prior and while it wasn't the easiest experience for this momma they did do pretty well all things considered.  By the end of the visit they were rewarded with a few stickers and that was all it took to make them smile.  Today when we arrived at the cemetery John said, "Momma, can I give Charlie him one of my stickers?  Because, if he were here he wouldn't be big enough to go the eye doctor and he wouldn't have gotten a sticker.  If he were here I would have given him one of my stickers."  Macy quickly chimed in and said, "I have two I want to give him too.  He'll love these!"  Of course I was more than happy to allow them to share their treasure with their brother.

It made my heart happy.

Happy Tuesday little man!

One more thing; Macy saw the monument hidden in the shrubs and she said, "Mom, why can't Charlie have a grave like that one?!  He deserves a big one like that!"  I chuckled and just smiled at her.  You are such a cheerleader for the people you love Macy.  You always want the best for them.  I love that about you sweet girl.        

Pictures

Lately my days have been hard.  I miss Charlie so much.  I am almost consumed by his memory, by what could have and what would have been.  I feel a little bit alone in my grief too.  It is no ones fault but my own, it just feels like I should be more okay than I am.  That makes it hard to share the grief.  I just wish I could give him a hug and kiss.  I just wish he was having trouble falling asleep and was snuggled up with me on the sofa.  I wish he needed me the way I need him.  

When in the world will this pain in my heart not ache so much?

I am sure it will not end.  But in moments and days and weeks like this I have little winks from God to help me keep going.  This past week I needed to get a few things done at work.  I worked until around 8 in my classroom.  Macy came with me because she LOVES school and she loves sitting at my table with my badge on drawing me pictures.  She always draws an abundance of pictures and at times we tapes them all over my room.  Before we left I took most of them down and hung them on my bulletin board behind my desk.  There was one left that I did not notice until the next day.  It was her, Charlie, and Johnny.  She always includes our sweet boy.  She never leaves him out of a family picture.  While my heart aches it also swells with joy when she lets me know he will not be forgotten.

I may never take that picture down.

Happy Dance and Dreams

We have hope; a hope that grabs the world by its shoulders and wake us all up to His promises.  When we are at our lowest we can hold onto that hope.  When we think we cannot make it another day we can snatch it up.  It is ours and He has promised us that those who fall asleep in Him will meet Jesus.  And that includes my Charlie boy.

This morning I woke up and my brother in law had sent me a text.

(And just to set this up, the several days previous I was grumpy.  I don't need anyone to say 'Amen' or agree...I know!  I was in a funk.  Even with vacation on the horizon I wanted to stay home in my bed.)  

Philip mentioned he had a dream and he wanted to tell me about it.  He said, "As weird as it may sound, I had a dream I'm supposed to share with you."  So I called and when he answered he said hello, good morning, and then went right into it.  He explained several pieces of the back story that I would need to know and then said, "Case, I know babies remind you of Charlie, because they remind me of Charlie too.  It makes sense that they would because he left this earth as a baby.  I want you to know that in my dream Charlie was giggling.  He was happy.  When he saw me he told Jesus to tell me about the babies.  Jesus explained that Charlie hugs the babies before they leave.  He said he hugs all the babies."  Philip stopped and then continued with, "Charlie is not dead Case.  He is alive and I think babies remind you of him because he has hugged them all!  A little piece of him is with them."

There was this weight lifted from my shoulders this morning after our conversation.  It made me sad for like a split second because of course I want Charlie here with me and then I realized those SMALL moments of joy I experience, he gets to experience 100% of the time.  Philip had no idea I was in a funk.  He had no idea why he was supposed to share that with me but I am so glad he followed the prompting from the Holy Spirit that said, "Tell her." because now I can picture Charlie giggling.  I can picture him hugging the neck of all those sweet babies coming to earth!  It reaffirms the hope I have and the hope I cling to.

What an incredible day filled with God's grace and love and HOPE!  We are all doing a happy dance today because we know Charlie is with Jesus and hugging ALL the babies!  

He Loves You

This evening I laid down with Macy so we could talk before she went to sleep; a nightly routine we have so that she will stay in bed and actually fall asleep before midnight.  (She's a little bit like her momma.)

While we were laying there talking she shared the normal, her favorite part of her day, something that was kind of hard or frustrating, how she figured out how to handle the latter, and then she started in on our usual; Charlie.  I have this love/hate relationship with this particular part of our conversation.  I love and cherish that she wants to remember Charlie and talk about him but I also struggle because her questions are more like worries and I want to lead her in the right direction as we talk about him and more importantly our eternal home.

So I have to back up a bit before I share our chat this evening.  I had previously shared with friends that I was worried about Macy worrying too much.  I know, it sounds a little bit counterproductive but I guess she comes by it honest.  So as we were talking a friend of mine mentioned "Worry Monsters."  I looked them up on Amazon and liked the idea of it (and Macy loves to draw and write) so I thought it may be a good thing for us to use as we maneuver through this stage with her.  We purchased the Worry Eater and went on our way.  When worries came up in the evening I wrote them down for her and we stuck them inside the worry monster.  She explained why she was worried, what she was worried about, and then we decided to give them to the monster (and also God).  It was working beautifully.  It really helped her feel like she could let them go.  We have continued using it and now when we talk about a worry we try and turn it into a wonder.  Instead of, "I am worried about Johnny's cough." we can say, "I wonder why Johnny is coughing so much."  It has helped us not worry or borrow grief from the future and it has made our evening chats much more enjoyable.

So tonight as we were talking she said, "Momma, I wonder why Charlie had to go to heaven and we don't get to go yet."  I said, "That is a good question Macy.  I am not sure."  She continued with, "Momma, did you know sometimes I can hear Charlie and Jesus talking?  Charlie is hard to understand because I think he is still a little baby but he says my name now."

I was a little bit blown away.  Her little heart misses him and it may be the idea of a little brother that she longs for but I know she thinks about him and always wants to include him.   Every time I think about having mentioned his name I am glad I did and we still do.  He is a huge part of our family and makes her smile more than he makes her sad.  We sat in silence for a bit longer and as I was rubbing her arm she said, "Charlie just said he loves you Mommy."

That was enough to make my heart burst open.  I wish so badly he were here and he could say, "I love you Mommy." just like his siblings do but that was enough for today.  It was so special and so sweet coming from Macy's big beautiful mind.   I had to write it down so that I always remember how special our nightly conversations are and how amazing it is that I get to talk about Heaven with Macy almost every evening.  It's a joy.      

Impact

This evening in grief group we shared pictures of the people we lost, those people that were stripped out of our grip, sometimes without warning and sometimes more slowly.  And it doesn't matter whether it happened quickly or painfully slow, those people that were taken from this earth are the some of the most treasured people in our lives.

Once we gathered the courage to hold the picture up in front of us, to share a vulnerable piece of our heart, we told everyone a brief story and then one or two words that described our loved one.  Every single person in that room tonight remembered something positive.  Every single person in the room this evening remembered the positive way their lost loved one impacted their life.   

Some of the words that were used to describe the people that left their mark on our hearts were brave, kind, full of life, joy filled, helpful, compassionate, sincere, loving, loyal...I wish I could remember every word.  I wish I had taken notes because I need to keep this evening and this moment in the front of my mind.  I need to keep this lesson close because I want the words used to describe me when I am gone, to also be kind and loyal.  I want someone to say "She was joyful."  I want people to remember the sincerity and compassion in my heart.  I continue to pray that when I am remembered, once I am gone, the words that come out of my loved ones mouths point others to Jesus.

After all it isn't because I am kind or loyal.  Instead, it is because Jesus was kind and loyal first.  He was the first and most influential teacher.

And it isn't me that is able to be joyful alone but rather the Holy Spirit filling me with joy.

It isn't because of anything I have done that my heart is full of love for others; that is all my Savior.  He gave me a heart for the hurting and he filled me with sincerity and compassion.

Those small moments I am able to let Jesus shine I hope are the most impactful.  For all the other moments I just have to say, Jesus be near, because you give grace upon grace even when my human tendencies keep me from having a positive impact on those around me or doing things in love.  You've got me and you are most strong when I am weak.

Thankful for that truth.       

                        

Sleep Feels Impossible

It's nearly two o'clock in the morning.  I am past the time where sleep will come.  I will be up all night at this point.  I have tossed and turned.  I have closed my eyes and laid completely still.  I have prayed away the minutes and now hours.  I am no longer praying for sleep, instead I am dedicating this evening of prayer to a dear girl's family...since sleep will not come.

I cannot stop thinking about the pain so many around me are feeling.  I cannot stop thinking about the ribbons all over town.  I cannot stop thinking about the family that has a room that is now void of their daughter; a room full of her life that they walk by and sit in and maybe even avoid.  I cannot stop thinking about the need we all have to help or do something.  I cannot stop thinking about how I want to rewind time now for someone else.  I cannot stop thinking about the friends that now have an empty seat at their lunch table or their dance class.  I cannot stop thinking about the teachers that have a picture of a sweet girl in their class but can no longer talk to her or ask her if she understands.  I cannot stop thinking about how unfair this whole thing is for everyone.

There is never a life taken out of order that makes sense.  There is never a time when a tragedy reveals its "why."  So instead of asking why and instead of insisting God rewind time, my prayer will continue to be that God would stay close to the brokenhearted.  My prayer is also that the rest of us can be God's hands and feet to the brokenhearted when they need us most.  While there are no words and there are not even any actions that will change what has happened I pray we continue to be a refuge for the family and friends running, walking, and even barely crawling through this storm.  There is no end in sight, I realize that, but I pray they (and we all) cling to our heavenly Father.  
 

3 Years, 3 Reasons I Am Thankful Today

1. I am thankful for new beginnings each morning.  Without the sun coming up every morning it would feel like I could not ever close the door on the previous day and all of it's crap.

2. I am thankful for the small kiss my husband planted on my forehead yesterday during church.  It may have been a small gesture for him but it meant the world to me.  It meant that he cares and he loves me.  It was a "I will take care of you" kind of kiss.

3.  I am thankful I get to spend so much time with Macy and Johnny.  Our plan today is to live it up at Coney Island today.

Now, someone tell me to get up!  The time is now!  I need to face this day.  I need to celebrate Charlie!

July 16, 2017

July 16, 2014

We knew Charlie wasn't going to live much longer.  They hadn't told us just yet but deep down we all knew.  It was a mother's instinct, I guess.  Or maybe it was the way the doctors and nurses looked at us, or didn't look at us rather.  I am willing to say this day is just as painful as the 17th; the day Charlie went to heaven.  We had to live through so many emotions we had never felt before.  We had to keep moving forward knowing our child would not get his miracle this side of heaven.  We had to fall asleep in a chair in his hospital room so that the next day, with as much courage and faith as we could muster, we could hold Charlie while he took his last breath late in the evening.  July 16, 2014 was one of the worst days of my life.  Even as awful as it was, I want to go back.  I want that last evening back with him.  I don't think I would do anything differently, since much of it I don't even remember, but I would cherish it more now.  I would hold those moments so close to my heart.  I would breathe him in and hold him close.

July 16, 2017

You would think three years would make the pain hurt less.  It doesn't work that way.  In fact, I think this has been the hardest year yet.  The first year I was in shock.  I can look back at the entire year and recognize that I was not fully present.  The second year I was trying to not feel "stuck in grief."  I made myself feel a certain way or do a certain thing.  And then this year, I can't help but just fall apart.  I have had headaches.  I have struggled to want to get out of bed.  I have believed lies Satan tells me about it all.  And I have finished MANY projects.  I have gone new places.  The two latter in an effort to figure out how to face this day and tomorrow as well.  How do you keep on going?  How do you celebrate your child being in heaven?  And then in the same breathe I would say how can you not celebrate your child being in heaven?!

So it's July 16th.  Here I am, laying in bed with a headache feeling like I would like a third ice cream cone for the day.  Instead, I will probably close my computer and fall asleep praying for peace and hope and love and grace to fill my heart and soul.

   

Church of the Small Things

This past week I found out that I get to be apart of Melanie Shankle's new book launch team.  I received an email, immediately jumped onto the 'secret' Facebook group, and then opened the first three chapters of her book titled, "Church of the Small Things" that we were given while we waited for our advanced copy to come in the mail.  The timing could not have been more perfect.  While I've been down in the dumps and dreading July 17th with every single part of my being I was given this small sliver of good news.  Something different.  Something to do with the day.  Something exciting to share with people.  Something to bring a bit of joy.  It was the perfect timing.

When the book came on Thursday, I opened the UPS envelope and pulled out my beautiful new copy of "Church of the Small Things."  I sat down and skimmed over the first three chapters again and then plowed through a few additional chapters.  And of course I already love it all.  I am excited to read this particular book in its entirety because the truth that comes jumping off the page at me is something I desperately need to hear.  The quote below says it all...it gives me a desire to be in the moment and love where I am; bumps, bruises, and all.

"You know what we all do when we think about our Fantasy Someday? We miss the holiness of this moment we live in right now.  There will never be another one like it.  And even if that makes you think, 'THANK GOD, BECAUSE MY LIFE CURRENTLY STINKS', there are still lessons to be learned, character to be built, and stories that will be told about where you are right now.  God takes all of it-the mundane and the ugly, the clean couch and the wine spills, the ordinary and the occasionally extraordinary-and when we allow him to add his grace, his mercy, and his outrageous love, he adds a brushstroke there and some color here and so paints it all into one glorious work of art that only he can achieve through us where we are right in that moment-in our homes, in our neighborhoods, in our classrooms, in our communities and world.  No one else can live our story.  So maybe it's time to embrace all that is uniquely ours and realize that is exactly what makes it special."

"That is exactly what makes it special."

Yes.

When I think about my life I think about a lot of little things and of course one big bad thing, but all of it is my story.  I embrace it all, the good, the bad, and the ugly.  All of it is uniquely mine.  I am thankful for this reminder and I am thankful for the encouragement I am receiving from this book to keep on.

I am sure more updates and quotes from this new book will bring up more thoughts which I will record here.  It is the perfect place to put the positive so I can look back on the bad days and see that there is good, there is encouragement to be found.  

It's Even in the Highlander

We only have to get two kids in the car each time we leave our house or anywhere for that matter.  Most people would think 'No problem!  They jump in, buckle themselves, and then tell us they are ready to get going with a quick "Ready Mommy!" shoutout.'

It all seems pretty simple really.  And it is until grief interrupts this picture perfect scenario because you see, it wasn't supposed to be this way.  We were supposed to have three car seats.  Three babies.  Three little people to get to and from place to place.

I should be dealing with a whole lot less trunk space.  Let's just say when the third row is up we can't go for a haul at the grocery store because our food would't fit in our less than ideal trunk size.  I should have to strategically plan a time to go when I don't have all three kids.  I should have to take out a car seat and lay down the third row.  I should have to deal with this inconvenience and I wish I did because that would mean Charlie is with us.

I should be remembering who was in the "way back" last.  The twins should be arguing about why it isn't fair that they aren't in the back this particular car ride.  I should be calming everyone down while still buckling a little one in a car seat.  I should be mediating the disagreement between the twins.  I should have to deal with this type of life moment where the twins thought this was a big deal and I wish I did because that would mean Charlie is with us.

I should be getting in my car and driving around town with my windows down belting out my favorite lyrics.  I used to sing LOUD in my car y'all.  I should be sharing these vocal chords with the entire town of Fort Thomas.  I should have three kids telling me to turn it down because I am embarrassing them.  I should be singing and laughing and rolling the windows down and I wish I was because that would mean Charlie is with us.

It was all simple when I thought death couldn't touch us.  It was all really simple when I was naive...or maybe a better word is ignorant?  Ignorance is bliss right?!  I would love for just one more day to deal with less trunk space or arguing twins.  I would love for just one more day to go back to feeling free and joy filled all the time!

It is crazy to me really that opening my car door and stepping up into my Highlander can evoke all of these feelings and thoughts in just seconds.  It can take your breath away.  It can cause you to lose control of the entire day.  It's called grief.  It's even in the Highlander.  It's hard and it's real.    

     

Happy 3rd Birthday Charlie!

Imagine you have a party planned for someone special.  You bought the cake, you arranged dinner, you even bought gifts.  Then imagine that person decided not to show up for their party.

Disappointing huh?!

I realize our situation is different because in our case Charlie can't show up.  Our guest of honor can't come to his own birthday parties.  In fact, he will never be able to attend a party that is thrown in his honor.  And this year for some reason I couldn't quite get it together.  I couldn't make myself plan something big for him.  I went back and forth with plans and what to do and how to celebrate and then I dropped the ball.

Don't get me wrong we all spent the day together.  We did the park in the morning with good friends, we visited a new park/adventure center in Ohio with Gigi and Poppy, and then had dinner at Rio Grande with Lolli and Pop.

But we did not visit his grave.

We did not eat cake.

We did not blow out candles.

I'm not sure what it was but I couldn't mentally handle those things today.

I guess its selfish but I didn't want to see his grave today.  I didn't want to remember him dead.

I didn't want to have a cake and blow out candles for him.  I didn't want to think about how he can't do that on his own because he is dead.

It's all the things you think about when someone you love dies.  You worry about their birthday and other special holidays.  You worry about how you will "do" those days.  And sometimes thinking about them makes you able to move forward through them constantly thinking about the hope you know you have in heaven.  And then other times you just can't move through them gracefully.  You don't visit their grave.  You don't eat cake.  And you don't blow out candles.  

Today, even though we didn't visit Charlie, eat birthday cake, or blow out candles, we still talked about him.  We still thought about him.  We still love him with all of our hearts.  Today that is enough.

And maybe tomorrow we can celebrate with cake.  Maybe we will go see him at the cemetery and talk about how much we love him and miss him while we are there.

Happy birthday little one.  We miss you so very much.  

Rossford Park Bench

Summer is when things finally slow down for us and since I don't have to be at work at 7 in the morning I normally walk and/or run in the mornings before anyone else wakes up.  I have learned that it is good for the soul.  It is necessary this time of year especially as I walk towards Charlie's birthday and then angel day.

This morning after my walk I made my way to Rossford Park.  I have been running several miles there each morning, breaking to sit on Charlie's bench after each mile.  This morning a sweet man walked by and said, "Good morning."  His dog slowed him down and as I talked to his dog he stopped and then said, "It is a beautiful morning, isn't it?"  I agreed and then our conversation continued.  I can't remember exactly what we were talking about but at some point I explained why he would see me on this bench all summer long most mornings.

There are so many times I don't let people into this part of my heart.  So many people that ask me
"How many kids do you have?" and I answer "...just two." But some people make grieving people feel safe.  Without even knowing it they seem to have this quiet spirit about them that lets you know it is ok to say your child's name.  Apparently this gentleman this morning was one of those people.  I explained a bit more about Charlie's story and then he continued on his walk and I ran an additional mile.

We both finished our walk/run around the same time and as I walked towards the hill to go home we crossed paths one last time.  He reached out and said, "Can I ask you something?"  I responded with, "Of course!" And he continued to ask if he could pray with me.  I have no idea if my heart was heavy and hanging out of my chest or what made him stop me but if that was not the Holy Spirit telling him to stop me and pray for me I don't know what is.  It was the kindest most special prayer and from someone that I don't even know but who lives just up the street from us.

I will cherish that moment for a long time and I'll remain thankful that this morning was a moment I was able to say Charlie's name to a perfect stranger.            

Closeness

There have been times over the past almost three years when I have felt so close to Charlie or the memory of him that I wished time would stand still.  It is nearly impossible to describe the feeling, but this evening was one of those times.  There was not a specific "special thing" that came from him or reminded me of him, it was just a fleeting moment that was gone before I could actually cherish it completely.  I was driving home, crossing the bridge, going back into Kentucky, and the perfect song started on my shuffled playlist from my phone.

I started crying and immediately felt this urge to turn around and try to experience it again.  I knew even if I had turned around and timed it all perfectly I wouldn't be able to experience that specific moment again.  I wouldn't feel Charlie.  I wouldn't connect with him in the same way because those special moments in time are rare.

While they are few and far between, they are what keeps me going.  They give me hope to move through another day because I know I can look forward to the glimpses of the little boy that I lost.  God lets me feel a closeness to Charlie that I am not even adequately able to put into words.

Game Time

When Satan tries to get you to believe you are a failure there is always a bigger and stronger God there waiting to pick you up and carry you through those days of anguish and frustration.  I've been there and experienced that in the most real ways after losing Charlie.  I have written so many times about the people in my life being the literal hands and feet of Jesus when I needed serious help (among other things) that I didn't even know I needed.

This week isn't comparable to the physical, mental, and emotional pain I experienced (and still experience) with Charlie, however, it has not been one of my best weeks.  I have experienced so much negative.  I have been wounded by words.  I have been disappointed by attitudes.  I have been told in so many words; you are a failure.  You aren't good enough.  

The most ironic thing about all of this (which isn't really ironic at all if you believe in Jesus) is that tonight in our small group we were asked to play a game called "Cards For Humanity."  It has a similar format of the game that I know just popped into your mind, however, these cards are positive.  They are life giving and this evening as we delved into this game with one another the cards helped us identify for one another who we are.

I was excited.  I loved finding just the right card for each person in the group.  It made me smile over and over each time my new friends turned over their cards and read them.  And then it was my turn.  And I will say that I am not good at receiving kind words about myself.  I have no idea where that comes from.  I have no idea why I am that way, but I realized instantly that's a problem and I stopped myself and just let God open up my heart to what all these sweet people were about to say.

Side note, I have known them all (excluding one or two) for only two Wednesday small group sessions.

So, it was my turn to flip over the cards everyone had placed in front of me and to say that I was humbled as I read each one is an understatement. The fact that the people surrounding me chose the cards that they chose to describe me and affirm me made my heart smile.  God right there in that instant eliminated the negative and completely filled me back up with the purpose he put in my life.  I was made in his image and the thoughts expressed through the cards that I revealed when I turned them over one at a time were something that will continue to get me through this week and month and beyond that, I'm positive.  If people see me the way they described me using those simple cards from this game then I know I am fulfilling God's purpose in my life.

I know I'm not perfect, however, I will not stop believing.  I will stay as sweet as honey.  I will be the one crying with you even when I don't know why we're crying.  And I will have to learn to receive the others.  I will accept that God gave me gifts and I am using them and that is exactly what I should be doing.

Period.  End of story.  

     

I Hate That...

I find that I so often say to myself and often to others, "I hate that I can't do...with Charlie." It is always a weird moment when even my closest people know there is not an appropriate response and yet I still find myself saying it because sometimes it's the only way I can say that I miss Charlie.  It lets people know that I need prayer and I need help to get through a lot of days still.  

There is this weird thing when in a community of grief "people" that makes it near impossible to say "I hate that I can't do...with Charlie." and not see a nodding head or a reassuring smile.  The reason there is this slight difference is because they know.  They have a small piece of them that misses dressing their child in a silly Halloween costume.  They understand that every single school year their heart will ache like mine because our children will never go to school.  They may even have gifts wrapped and ready for Christmas that will never be opened.  They get it.  They know from experience that I need prayer and I need help to get through a lot of days still.

I say all this to say, not one response or experience with these thoughts is better or more helpful than the other.  Whether you know what to say or not, whether you have been there or not, whether you feel helpful or not, it doesn't matter.  You are all my people.  I am thankful for you all every single day.

Suffering

Days that are wholly devoted to pregnancy and infant loss bring up so many mixed emotions in my heart.  I am thankful my Charlie and so many others babies are remembered and then I am also so hurt that this day has to happen.   It feels wrong to me that there has to be a day set aside to remember our babies.  And it is wrong.  I know it was not part of God's perfect creation.  

I recently read an article a friend posted on social media from Relevant magazine.  It meant so much to me to read this and at this exact moment too.  It was exactly what I wanted and exactly what I needed to help heal another small piece of my heart.  The article titled, "Yes, God Will Give You More Than You Can Handle" gave me a place to lay my burdens.

The article describes the phrase so many people use to ease our pain when we suffer.  In 1 Corinthians 10:13 it says, "No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind.  And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.  But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can endure it."  But as I read through the rest of the article I learned {again} that suffering is different than temptation.  We have been given free will and we get to make our own decisions.  Will we fall into temptation?  Will we sin?  That is up to us.  We can decide.  However, when Charlie was born and our world fell apart on July 17th when he died in my arms, I didn't get to choose.  It was ok that I felt like I couldn't handle that day and the months to come.  It was ok that my soul was overwhelmed.

Psalm 34:18 says, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those that are crushed in spirit."

When we learn that he suffers with us and that he is broken for us it gives us a place to go when we feel lonely.  It gives us someone else that understands how we feel when it seems like no one can.

As October 15th comes closer into view and I can barely lift my arm to light the candle in our kitchen to honor and remember Charlie I pray that the least I can do is realize that this suffering is too much.  It can be too much to endure and that has nothing to do with 1 Corinthians 10:13.  It has everything to do with God's grace and all sufficient power and love that keeps up going each day even when it's too much.  Seeing that face and not being able to kiss it is too much today.

Wrapped Up

When things get overwhelming at work or in my life in general I get wrapped up in my grief.  

When grief was new I was able to really just avoid all things that used to make me anxious; the trivial things.  It was like all the sudden nothing was as important as I used to think it was.  The typical worries went away.  The work stress couldn't get to me.  The things that once "mattered" or that I thought were so important meant nothing because something was stripped from my life in a matter of days.  Something that I longed for and begged God for was taken away.  Nothing matters as much when that happens to you.  

Then as I began to heal I began to go back.  I began to worry about the silly things.  I got away from the scripture that reminds me how much more important I am than the birds of the air.  I let silly things get me down.

And now, while I'm not all the way back to normal and I'm positive I will never be completely normal, I still let silly, worthless things get me down.  I let stress consume my thoughts.  I let people drag me down.  I let worries fill important parts of my brain that should be filled with joy.  I know our time on earth is limited.  I know that I will not always be here and my family will not always be here and yet I can't seem to stop the worry.  And with that worry comes pain.   The most stressful time of my life when I was the most out of control as I have ever been comes rushing back when I am worried, stressed, overwhelmed, and I can't seem to help it.

I get wrapped up in grief.