Love

Last week I was reflecting on all of the things I am thankful for.  I realized that I am most grateful for the things I find myself easily taking for granted– food to eat, clothes to wear, house to clean, and kids to love.  Ultimately, all of these blessings come from the grace of God.  But, for me personally, they come from the one I usually take most for granted, the one who gives the most and takes the least – my gracious husband, Jeremy.  As we celebrated our anniversary this week, I am even more overwhelmed with appreciation as I recognize I couldn’t and wouldn’t have gotten through the last year without him.  The only other who has been through exactly what I have.  One year ago from today, I remember so well how content I felt.  There was nothing I wanted more than the things I had.  I remember it because it’s the feeling I’ve spent the last year trying to feel again.  This year has had the lowest of lows as I’ve searched for and questioned my purpose in this life.  There have been days my heart feels so broken I wasn’t sure if I could ever be happy again.  But, looking back now, it showed me what true happiness and contentedness is made of.  I see now the feeling I was looking to feel again was simply love. 

I used to always question Paul’s assertion in 1 Corinthians 13:13 about love being the greatest.  I thought that love is great and all, but faith is most important.  He says, “If I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” Why is that, though?  If you have to have faith in Jesus to enter heaven, then why and how is that not the greatest?  This year I finally got it. 

“For God so LOVED the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” 

There it is.  Belief in the gospel of Jesus Christ is centered on both our need for a Savior and God’s want to save us.  But why did God want to save us?  Because He loves us.  In John 3:16 Jesus tells us that.  Love is a word that gets watered down more often than not.  We use the word “love” in as many contexts as we use the word “hate”, which is sad.  I love cheeseburgers.  I hate that color.  I love this weather.  I hate this traffic.  And so on and so on.  Love and hate are extremes, but most all people use them in a passive sense.  It’s just another way to describe something.  So when we talk about God loving the world and sending his only Son, the idea seems just as vague as our love of food or weather or whatever.  But God’s love isn’t that superficial.  It isn’t a description.  And to understand this love is why God blesses us.  I wouldn’t be able to fully understand it if I didn’t have, first, my husband, second, my kids, and then everything else.  God shows me firsthand, presently, what love is through my marriage.  I will learn more about what grace is from this man than anything else, I’m sure.  Back to 1 Corinthians 13 – a few years ago, I used to have this written on my bathroom mirror and would try to read it with my name in place of the word “love”, because that is who and how I want to be.  I wanted to be love and show love.  After a few months of struggling with it, I finally erased it.  I just couldn’t be all of those things and decided to just focus on one word at a time.  Patience.  Perseverance.  Humility.  Calm.  Who could be all of those things at once? 

“Love is patient, love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails.”

When I read it again this year, I heard it describing two people in my life now.  First, the obvious one, Jesus, of course.  The less obvious one that I’d never noticed before – my husband.  I get to enjoy so many things because of him.  I am warm and dry in a home he provides for us.  I get to spend every second of every day at home with our kids while he goes to work.  I can feel safe – emotionally and physically – with him.  I have a best friend I get to live with, share my day with, to laugh and cry with, to just be with.  He’s the most wonderful, faithful father to our children.  Nothing melts my heart like hearing him say bedtime prayers with them.  I could never be all of those things, but he loves me anyway.  Today, I can unequivocally say he is the type of man I want my daughters to marry someday.  I hope they, and everyone else, gets to experience this kind of love in their life, so they can translate it to their faith in God.   I can know our marriage, although it isn’t perfect and never will be, is the biggest blessing in my life because it is how God is with me everyday, showering me with love and grace.  I can understand exactly why God would send his Son to save the world.  Because of love - this kind of love!  I hope that no matter what happens – good or bad, easy or hard, happy or sad, life or death – God continues to bless our marriage and our life and our family we’ve created together.  So what am I thankful for?  Love.

Happy anniversary, Jeremy.  Thanks for loving me through this year and never giving up on me, even when I gave up on myself.

Six months

Six months

Yesterday marked six months without my baby, and two weeks until his first birthday.  Yes, that means he’s been in Heaven now longer than he was in my arms.  It’s been one week without my grandpa.  Needless to say, it’s been a heart-wrenching year. 

I realize it’s been over two months now since I’ve written anything, so I figured I’d give an update, hard as it may be right now.  I now see that the first three months after Luke left us, the Lord spent showing me the heights of my strength, and my heart responded.  I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, as this is something God had prepared me for, but the last three months this world and the devil have shown me the depths of my weaknesses.  When I wrote the first couple of posts, I was overwhelmed with fear.  I feared being at the center of the hate this world has for Christians – the same hate it had for Christ himself.  I feared becoming the target of anyone’s wrath for something that I wrote or believe.  But, I knew that meant I was right where God wanted me to be.  The last few months, though, He has challenged me to dig deeper, to not be complacent with where I believed I was.  That’s the thing about falling in and being in love – you never have enough.  You never would say to your kids, “I’ve loved you enough today, I’ll check on you later.” So why do we expect God to do that with us?  And, it’s not a test; it’s a lesson.  I’ve been struggling through some difficult things, anxiety and extreme sadness.  Some days it feels like it, but I know it’s not an impossible thing to overcome.  I’m not sure I’m there yet.  But the sum of this lesson could be described with one word: humility.  When I am sad, I am learning to be humble.  Humble of everything.  It’s important to ask, “Why am I sad?”  And, if I’m being honest, generally, it’s because I am mourning something that wasn’t mine or that I didn’t deserve to begin with.  It’s because I’m not bringing myself low enough to see what I have to be happy about.  Material blessings, yes, but this applies to everything and anything I let fight for space in my time and life.  If God is really number one, and I am His, and He is mine, what else is there?  We want so much more for ourselves, and our expectations of others and ourselves always fall short.  I want to change the things I cannot change, instead of waiting for God to take control.  Or I let people hurt me who shouldn’t be in a position to hurt me to begin with and stir turmoil in my life and in my heart.  But what wounds can they create that God cannot heal?  I’m letting myself become a victim of the evil of this world instead of rejoicing in Christ and handing it over.  It hasn’t been and isn’t going to be easy, because I naturally want so much more for myself or even the things I had before including my life with Luke, but God wants me to be able to accept that I’m not living for my own will – and that’s a good thing. 

To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger from Satan, to torment me.  Three times, I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me.  But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.  2 Corinthians 12:7-10

So for the last week, I’ve heard the question, “How are you doing?” over and over again.  I’m not sure the answer to that.  At first, I was in shock, but then I was surprised.  I was so sad and discontent before my grandpa passed and had emotionally been skimming the proverbial bottom that I thought I just couldn’t get any sadder.  I thought we’d just been through so much, I couldn’t even begin to process this new loss.  But what I’ve realized over the last week is that I do have a heightened sense of acceptance but not over what I thought it was.  I thought I had just learned to accept death and tragedy, and I have.  But what I’ve really accepted is that death on earth isn’t something to mourn.  We mourn for the people left here still but envy those who get to go before us.  Our loss is Heaven’s gain.  I couldn’t help but be jealous of my grandfather for getting to go up and be with Luke, and his daughter, and most of all Jesus, because that is where we all aspire to be. 

So it begs the question of what purpose am I supposed to fulfill today during my time here.  I know God’s answer, but that’s a difficult calling to answer everyday, but why?  Mostly because I am not Christ and am incapable of living a perfect life, and it’s hard to accept being a disappointment to God and to others and myself every single day.  So the answer brings me back to humility – to take away that prideful disappointment and replace it with Christ’s forgiveness and love.  That means evaluating our own relationship with Jesus instead of thinking we’re allowed to judge others’.  That means acknowledging no matter how great or not so great that relationship is that God wants more and His work in us will never be complete.

I stumbled upon this.  It is no coincidence that God wrote it better than I ever could:

If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose.  Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.  Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death – even death on a cross!  Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.  Philippians 2:1-11

So how am I doing?  I still miss Luke and my grandpa, but I don’t want to get to Heaven and have to tell them I spent my life being bitter, scorned and sad.  How selfish would that sound?  I want to tell them I lived a life that brought me closer to them everyday.  The road is narrow, but the path is clear.

A Reminder About Grieving

When you experience a loss, it’s amazing how people around you will open up and share their loss with you, also.  I found it encouraging knowing that other people had experienced horrific heartbreak and still found a way to get out of bed in the morning.  The downside to that was that, at the time, it put my grief into a weird, probably unhealthy perspective.  I couldn’t feel sorry for myself and grieve my loss, because, look around, everyone else had made it through.  Furthermore, if I’m truly trusting in God, which I was and still am, I thought, “What is there to be sad about?  I’m fine.”  One particularly meaningful conversation I had was with a friend.  She extended her hand through her own experience of losing her first husband.  I didn’t know, and I couldn’t imagine.  She offered her friendship and understanding as to how hard it is to grieve after everyone forgets and doesn’t understand how much you’re still hurting.  When she described the things people had done to her in the time following, I was horrified.  How could people be like that?  I’m glad I don’t have people in my life like that.  Silly me.

The first two months following Luke’s death I spent trying to be strong for everyone else and found strength in doing so.  The third month was when it became more difficult to deal with my emotions and I remember willing myself to grieve, but I just couldn’t.  In this month, now I’m tired, emotionally exhausted.  I want to lay in bed all day and do what I feel like would’ve been accepted by those around me if I did it in that first month, but now it’s met with bitterness and resentment.  At first, I remember thinking I didn’t want to be the person known for and remembered by my loss, but I guess I didn’t think it’d be those closest to us who would be the quickest to forget.  Now I know exactly what my friend was talking about.  While everyone else’s lives move on and stay the same, ours are still changed forever.  It’s astounding how quickly people are to cast their anger and aggression back in our direction.  And while they’re busy being upset about issues that are none of their business but all of mine, I am the one just trying to go through the motions.  We are the ones who awake every morning and see the crib where our son used to be, but now only his pictures and onesies remain.  We go to see him everyday at a cemetery – rain or shine.  We have spent more time trying to choose, arrange, and coordinate how, when, and where our headstone will be placed than anyone can imagine.  Seeing my name on a headstone was something I didn’t think I’d ever see, especially at the age of 27.  Just last night, I spent close to an hour on the phone with the cemetery director talking about our gravesites, sorting out a discrepancy on our ownership certificate, how that’s delaying our process, and going over the maintenance routine for Luke’s grave.  If that’s not depressing, I’m not sure what is.  All day and all night I fight back the memories of Luke.  No one knew him like I did.  While everyone else only knew him for five months, I carried him with me for over a year.  And then, every moment of every day I held him, fed him, changed him, and loved him.  Even though he couldn’t talk, I remember the way he looked at me with so much unconditional love in his eyes.  That day before – I wish I would’ve just spent the whole day cuddling with him and enjoying his precious smile.  If I could have that day back, what would we have done?  I would’ve made it last forever.  That cold December morning.  The sirens.  The ambulance ride to the hospital – the wrong hospital.  The way my heart broke when I heard them say we weren’t going to Children’s, just Lakeside.  Those calls to our family to tell them what had happened.  Haunting.  The mortuary.  The funeral.  Every moment after and in between.  Seeing friends post pictures of their babies who are the same age Luke would be.  Listening to my kids repeat day after day, night after night how much they miss their brother, how they wish they could go visit him.  

I do think eventually it will get easier, but today is not that day.  This year is probably not the year.  I do my best to still commit to things that call my name but know it isn’t easy.  And know that Jeremy and I would never use our son’s death in vain as an excuse to feel or act any particular way, so I wouldn’t expect it be for anyone else either.  People grieve in different ways and at different times, so just be nice.  That’s all I’m asking.  Don’t act selfishly and harshly towards the three things that are going to get me through this: my faith, my marriage, and my sanity.  To disrespect any of those things of anyone under any circumstances is low, let alone months, weeks, or mere days after a loss like this.  Those three things may not be perfect in my life, but the only ones I’ve invited into them are God, my husband, and myself.  No one else.  So today I’m asking God for patience to tolerate others’ behavior and actions towards us.  I’m asking Him to give me the strength to give grace and forgive, despite the fact that forgiveness will likely never be asked.  I’m handing it over because I can’t on my own.  My hardened heart and sinful nature have given me the right to not forgive.  I know that’s not right, and I trust that if I ask, God will allow me to forgive anyone.  But remember that memories of being hurt are especially hard, if not impossible, to forget.  I’m not calling anyone specific out.  I’m calling everyone out.  Everyone, even people who have been through this process, needs a reminder to treat people with kindness, respect, and empathy.  Everyone needs a call to stop with the jealousy, hate, gossip, and anger.  I think we give ourselves too much grace and others none.  We make excuses for behavior instead of changing it.  We think we can hide our true feelings and motives from God.  I ask my children and myself often, “If Jesus came back right now, is this how you’d want him to find your heart?” 

You Can't Take It With You

 Don’t we all think we’d be happier if we had a newer, bigger, better house or car or job?  Better backdrops for our highly staged, self-promoting Instagram and Facebook posts.  We define others and ourselves by the material things they or we have.  I was that person, and if I’m honest, I still am.  I never agreed with the term “Money can’t buy happiness.”  Okay..  But it sure makes life easier.  Of course I’d be happier in a bigger home and brand new car and a few trips somewhere south of the border.  Isn’t that why every other show on TV is giving away one of those things?  Because it makes people happy!  Isn’t that why that’s what floods our social media feeds?  Yes, those things are exciting blessings in our lives, but is that truly the reason we’re sharing them, publicly?  I wouldn’t call myself materialistic, but I think that the generation that I’ve grown up in has definitely affirmed the belief that “Money will absolutely buy happiness”.  I don’t think it’s sinful to graciously accept blessings of material comforts, but I do think it’s important to evaluate the real cost and compromise of these things.  Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” (Matthew 19:23-24)  Woah, last time I checked the size of a camel is not relevant to the size of an eye of a needle.  Most of the time I can't even get the thread through the eye of the needle.  Let me first say this, we are not rich, at least not by our society’s standards.  We live in a modest three-bedroom house, drive used cars, and have never been to Mexico.  But I also know that by the world’s standards, we are rich.  We own a home, with indoor plumbing, power at the flip of a switch and central air.  We own two reliable vehicles that are also equipped with air conditioning.  Our kids have so many toys that they have taken over every corner of every room of our said house and cars.  So much stuff!  Too much stuff!   I never realized just how much is too much, or where I cross the line to where blessings become a curse until Luke left us.  In those moments, I remember thinking I would’ve given everything I owned and anything I would ever own on this earth, in this life to have my son back.  I envisioned how grateful I’d be to sleep on a cot in a homeless shelter to have Luke back.  It didn’t seem right to me that my son’s life wasn’t up for sale.  We live in a world where everything has a price.  We are driven by the things of this world and not the matters of the world to come.  The world where nothing has a price and everything has been paid in full.  Think about this: Any other catastrophe in life besides death we solve with money, because everything else ultimately is replaceable.  The fact that I desperately thought it wasn’t fair to not be able to trade everything on this earth for my son back in my arms revealed something about myself, my life, and about my faith and trust in God.  It revealed how much I rely on myself to get through life and hardships, in particular.  I wanted to negotiate the situation, as if God needs my petty earthly possessions.  I needed to be in control and felt entitled to the power over God to question His decision to call Luke home.  But life and death are not up for sale, because life and death have already been conquered and are free.  When I finally sought God about this, which I should’ve done to begin with, the truth became clear that bartering the outcome wasn’t the answer – faith was.  But isn’t that the answer to everything?  Why am I so quick to answer my own call?  Why am I so eager to judge God’s plan for me?  No amount of money or control could’ve changed this outcome and it won’t change any future outcomes, but why does that still seem so unfair?  Because I haven’t humbled myself enough to feel blessed that I am not in control.  Because I ultimately haven’t accepted that the same Almighty God who created the world and everything in it wants me to remember to love Him most and first.

When I go to Heaven the only things I’ll take are my faith in Jesus and the grace God has given me.  Nothing else.  Not my purse, my phone, my jewelry, or even my most prized possessions – my kids and husband.  We will meet them when they get there, but they’re not coming with me.  Doesn’t that sum up how unimportant my material possessions are?  It broke my heart when the nurse at the hospital gave us back his pajamas – the ones I loved with the dinosaur feet – to take home with us.  I thought, What am I supposed to do with this now?  When we came home to see all of his toys and clothes and blankets were still in the same places, but he wasn’t.  All Luke took with him was that precious smile and God’s good grace; everything else belongs to this world.  And if God truly loved these things as we love these things as He loves us, would he not let us take them with us?  What I’m learning about the “rich man” Jesus spoke of is it’s important to differentiate between comforts God is blessing us with and possessions we bless ourselves with, and then consequently, the power those things hold over us.  Just as in Ephesians 2 God has shown us “incomparable riches of his grace” through Jesus, the world will show us incomparable riches of sin.  I believe that anyone blessed with more than riches of His mercy (everyone) is subject to being the rich man in the parable.  Even just life as we know it in America gives our egos power and control and more pride and self-righteousness than we know what to do with.  Yes, it’s true.  Money could make you very happy.  But money also can be in the leading role in almost every sin we commit.   The more or less of it we have the easier it becomes to fill our lives with things that distract us from our Purpose.  It’s most important to strive for possessing a strong, fruitful faith at least in the same way we strive for the other desires of our lives, because on that day even Warren Buffett won’t be able to buy his way into Heaven; his G6 can’t fly to God’s kingdom.

Whether I have a lot or a little on earth, I can choose to freely accept the riches of His grace and mercy.  I’m not going to lie, it’s much easier said than done, to humble myself to give up the power and control.  But I am reminded to surrender to God’s will and am strengthened with reassurance every night when I hear my own children recite the words “thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven”.

Words

Words have never meant so much to me.  They say actions speak louder than words, but here’s one for the little guy.  First of all, thank you to anyone even reading or caring about any words I write.  There’s a lot to read and not a lot of time, just ask me how many books I’ve managed to read in the last decade.  Second, thank you anyone for your kind and encouraging words for me in response to my words.  I’ll say again, I’m not a writer, preacher, or saint.  Not being any or all of those things makes me scared that I’m not the right person to write anything about faith in Jesus.  But, by trusting in Him, I think I’m doing okay.  No angry mob outside my house yet.

Ok, so, words.  I don’t think I’m the only one who struggles with words.  Whenever I would or have had conversations with anybody after Luke went up to Heaven, it was usually quickly followed with an apology text.  “Sorry if I said the wrong thing.”  No one had the words.  What words can you say to someone who can’t be helped?  It was like the pink elephant was in the house, even for me.  I didn’t know if it seemed self-pitying to wallow about him, but no one else wanted to bring it up and possibly send me spirally into an emotional abyss.  But then not talking about him just made that elephant bigger and pinker.  I thought I don’t want to be a downer by talking about my dead son or beat the horse about him being in Heaven.  But I don’t want them to think I don’t miss him or am just moving on with my life. I knew whomever I was talking to was thinking the exact same thing, and it was just awkward.  No one wanted to be insensitive, but I knew they were burning with questions, especially friends who are moms to young babies.  How?  Where?  When?  What did you do the day before?  Was he sick?  I know because I would’ve been thinking the exact same things.  This is a parent’s worst nightmare, and the fact that it could happen to baby Luke begged the question, “Could it happen to MY baby?”  Clearly, I don’t have the answer to that question.  I never thought it would happen to my baby.  But that’s the power of God’s will you don’t understand until you experience something that makes no sense that you cannot control.  Usually, that’s used in a negative context – a loss, a challenge.  But let’s give some credit to God’s Amazing Will!  It’s by His will that we have the things that we have – jobs, cars, kids, safety, food, everything.  It’s by His will that we are living and breathing.  But we only choose to acknowledge the power in that when something that wasn’t ours to begin with is taken away. 

Do not love the world or anything in the world.  If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.  For everything in the world – the cravings of sinful man, the lust of the eyes and the boasting of what he has and does – comes not from the Father but from the world.  The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever.   1 John 2:15-17

Couldn’t have said it better myself.  (Obviously.)  Doing the will of God, in actions, is great, clearly.  But speaking, hearing, and accepting God’s will is the work that needs to be done first.  That is where I am, and I see most people around me get stuck.  Words can be scary.  Are they the right words?  Am I sounding stupid for saying them?  What if someone misinterprets the words I’m trying to say?  I struggle with writing this because I worry about all of those things.  Stupid things really when we’re talking about the peace and comfort that God freely gives for us while we’re on this earth and the comfort He promises us when we leave this earth.  Isaiah 55:11 says, “So is my word that goes out from my mouth:  It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”  That’s an important reminder for me.  So many times, I want to offer someone comfort by asking them to seek God, but I stop myself from doubting myself, which from this is clearly doubting God.  But when you speak Christ into someone’s heart, God makes it Loud and Clear! 

An example of this:  The day after Luke passed, a girl I went to school with who I am Facebook friends with messaged me.  We were never best friends, and I hadn’t seen her since high school.  She sent me back a message I had sent her three and a half years earlier.  I had seen she had a miscarriage and was praying for her.  I remember contemplating over sending the message.  I figured she’d think I was trying to be “holier than thou” and mock me.  It went something like, “God will never give you an obstacle that He won’t help see you through.”  I believed that to my core, so I went ahead and sent it.  At that time, she didn’t respond.  I went on with my life and figured I was right that I shouldn’t have sent it.  Keep your Godliness to yourself, I thought.  That Monday when I read her message we had just gotten home from picking out Luke’s tiny casket at the mortuary and choosing our gravesites at the cemetery.  Yes, I just watched my husband write a check for three adjacent gravesites.  I wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk to God, but what she said brought me to my knees.  She said that what I said was true and helped her through her difficult time and was hoping it would help me now.  Words.  They were just words.  They were words that I thought had come back empty.  Words I struggled to say.  That was God’s will.  His will for me sending them to her, and then in an almost literal way, returning to me NOT empty but full of His love and comfort.  It’s often the words we’re most afraid of saying that mean the most to someone else. 

Sometimes it’s the words we hear that come back full of His will.  A family member and I got into an argument of sorts about four years ago.  A close friend of his had passed away.  The argument was aimed at my faith.  It wasn’t hate-filled, and I guess you could call it a conversation where we were disagreeing.  I didn’t fully know but understood the place he was coming from.  He was sad.  It wasn’t fair.  He challenged that if God took away one of my children, or even both, I’d rethink my faith in Him, too.  I’ve talked to my husband about this conversation over the years a lot.  I’ve prayed for him a lot.  I’ve prayed over the state of his spiritual health for years now.  And then this.  Lo, God did take one of my children.  And, I did, in my darkest hours, rethink my faith in Him.  Jeremy has said he hopes he doesn’t remember saying those words to me now.  I hope he does.  I hope he can feel the same peace I have found through faith.  I hope he would let God comfort him as He has comforted me.  I like to think this is God’s will for him as well as me.  Those words were true.  I didn’t know, I do now, and I choose God and I hope he does, too.

Words are only words until you let God fill them with His will and His love and His comfort.  Don’t take the power of words for granted.  They will not return to you empty or cause anyone harm, but God will use them to bless you and whoever you say them to, and sometimes whoever says them to you.  And surrender.  Surrender your worries and contemplation to God.  The Bible has close to one million words that have been filled with His provision:  use them, for yourself and for everyone.  You never know the way He will return those words to you.

Happy 8-months, Lukey!

Love unconditionally

These are words I wrote two years ago when I was attempting to start a prayer journal or things that my faith had been convicted by.  I didn't get far with the journal. I realized it seemed impossible to write all of my prayers down - people close, people far, people oppressed around the world, myself, my marriage, my kids.  I didn't know where to start and where to end.  It was something I wanted to do to remember to sit down and actually pray for people who I had told I would pray for.  So many times you see people comment on tragic events of others with a "thoughts and prayers being sent your way" or something along those lines. I knew I was supposed to be praying for and about everything, but I ultimately still wanted to be in control.  I wanted the credit when things went well.  But when they didn't or don't (I still struggle with this, obviously!) if we're being honest, I wanted to be upset at God about it.  If I'm worrying about something, it just means I haven't fully handed it over.  Soon, this notebook, as all my notebooks do, turned into a place to make my lists!  I love lists - grocery lists, things to do lists, things to remember lists.  When it was completely filled up, all the pages used, about a month ago, I decided to go back through and look if there was any unfinished business on those lists and pages before throwing it out, and boy, was there ever. Hello!  Guess what the only list I never made in there was?  Yep.  A list of prayers.  I did stumble upon a couple of pages, this being one that was pretty amazing.  I need to read this everyday, but I also need to remember to take my own advice and pray.  Not because God needs to know my problems; He knows my problems before I do.  I need to pray and love unconditionally because that is when He reveals himself to me. That is when I can see His blessings and answers to my prayers.  People (read: I) get frustrated with God when he doesn't answer, but how can you get an answer when you never asked a question?  You won't see God's glory if you're too busy worrying about something you should've just handed over to begin with.  I can think back to the context in which I wrote these words.  To see how God has blessed me and my faith since I wrote those words is absolutely amazing. 

I started a new prayer journal and hope I will keep with it, and God give me strength to not be overwhelmed by the words I bring to Him.  And while giving the gift of prayer to others is so important for others and your own soul, accepting and asking for prayer is equally so.  Asking for prayer from anyone else shows humility. Instead of puffing out my chest in pride or assuming it isn't something God will or can help me with, it's humbling to remember that.  I have an amazing friend who whenever I mention (complain) about something, she says, "I'll pray for you."  My knee-jerk reaction is What?!  Why?!  No, don't talk to God about that; that's just me complaining.  A-ha!  Isn't that the answer to my grievance, then?  If it's that ridiculous, isn't it time to let it go or let it be?  And for the other times, I humbly accept her prayers over me with no strings attached.  Just love and grace.

Amazing Grace

Today was one of those days.  Up late last night.  It’s difficult to feel rejected or even just not accepted by those closest to me.  It seems like those are the people whose empathy wears off the fastest.  Communication lacks and support dwindles.  Maybe their own grief is festering, maybe resentment begins to grow, and life goes on.  That’s the thing about grief or trials – they move you.  And, while we started at the same place, I’ve reflected on my own life and values and faith, and without trying, it seems as if we’ve all ended up in different places.  I’ve been not talking to my sister/best friend for the last month.  We’re both stubborn, we got in an argument, and I guess I expected more empathy than she showed.  And if I’m being honest, I just didn’t have the emotional tolerance at the time to patch things up.  Now after a month, I’ve let that resentment grow and life go on.  I know that’s not right, but I emotionally can’t defend myself right now.  For the same reason, more or less, I’ve been distant from other people in my life, too.  Yesterday, all it took was a few neglected texts from friends, a day of incessant fighting amongst the kids, the pressure and stress of trying to plan two parties – friend and family - for Corbin’s birthday, and an overcritical conversation with my husband to send me over the proverbial edge.  Yes, as much as I fight it, I am a woman.  I am dramatic and sensitive.  I am overbearing and controlling.  I over-commit in all aspects of my life, but it would require me to compromise who I am to not do it.  I like the feeling of accomplishing something that takes a lot of effort.  It’s so gratifying in a life of raising children that usually offers so little, if any, gratification.  Maybe it’s a symptom of being a stay-at-home mom in recent years now.  Then, after the commitment has been made, it’s likely a symptom of a total lack of organization on my part.  It’s been acknowledged; I’m working on it.  The parties, I know, “aren’t necessary”.  Except they kind of are.  We all need this.  We need an opportunity to celebrate something for a change.  The last time we saw most of our family members was Luke’s funeral.  We need to make more memories.  Plus, Corbin really deserves it.  He’s had a tough year (obviously); he does well in school, and bears the weight of being the oldest child.  I don’t personally know what that’s like, but I can imagine it isn’t easy.  

So this morning, it took everything I had to get everyone going and out the door to church.  It’s always a bit of a production, but the kids were begging for pancakes and the shower was calling my name.  I knew I needed to go, though.  I sat there yearning to hear something reverent, something to make me feel better about my day.  I never feel that way, but today I wanted it!  Our pastor’s sermon was great, but it just wasn’t what I needed to hear today.  I selfishly prayed for myself.  I prayed for patience, for understanding, for help applying what I was hearing to my moment.  Nothing struck me.  At one point it turned into just getting through without having a public display of emotion.

I’m not a “cryer”, not in public anyway.  I don’t like the reaction it solicits from other people.  I don’t dare to even cry in private anymore.  Living with four other people, three being little ones has scared it out of me, even before losing Luke.  And after, every time Marty has caught me tearing up, he would exclaim with the bluntness only a four year old possesses, “Oh, not again with the cryin’!”  No, not again.  It’s not that I’m setting a precedent that it isn’t okay; it’s that I don’t want them to worry.  There will be a time and place in their lives where I’ll be able to return to the womanly drama that is crying whenever I please.  But that time is not now.  I don’t want to cast doubt in their little minds and that I’m crying and sad because I don’t fully trust God.  I know maybe a therapist somewhere would beg to differ, but I personally feel like they’re too little to understand the difference.  There are times it happens, but I’m not proud of it.  Oh, but the tears were flowing today.  I kept my sunglasses on when we stopped after church to visit Luke.  The sun was shining, so I felt bad for crying.  But in that moment, it just felt like if I wasn’t there and he was here, things would be different.  Life wouldn’t be so hard if we’d never had to endure all of this.  He’d be almost 8 months old – eating lots of baby food, possibly crawling and sitting, definitely smiling and squealing.  God give me strength today, I prayed.  I stood there and let myself feel bad for myself.  How pitiful. 

I continued the pity party when I got home and crawled back into bed for a quick nap.  This was my solution to my own problem.  The saying should go, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, take a nap.”  I woke up when Jeremy was leaving for work as he kissed me on the head.  Immediately I felt and knew, I’m a horrible person.  I had spent the last twelve hours fully feeling bad for myself, and feeling lost, and probably all the while taking it out on him, and he still wants to gently kiss me on the head before heading off to what is sure to be a stressful day at work.  Would I have even said goodbye to myself?  I think I would’ve snuck out the back an hour earlier.  After he left, I realized he had picked up, emptied the dishwasher, reloaded the dishwasher (correctly!), folded some clothes, and fed the kids lunch.  I felt so humbled and low, awful and grateful, sorry and thankful.  I am certain that in this life, God will personally teach me more about His grace through this man than I ever deserve.  That is what I needed today.  He is what I needed today and everyday.  This day wasn’t going to get better until I quit refusing to accept grace.  I found the reverence I was looking for was, has been and is right next to me.  I love you, Jeremy, and will remember to thank God for you everyday.  Thank you God for giving me such a patient husband and continue to open my heart to receive, and his heart to give, grace freely.  We have been moved in the last two months - together, not apart.  Grace does that.  My sister text me as I was writing this.  I hope I can shake off the resentment and differences and just be graceful. 

Scripture that came to mind is 2 Corinthians 4, about jars of clay. 

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed."

Beautiful sunshine

This happens often: When I pull up to visit Luke on a cloudy, dreary or even snowy day like today, the sun will suddenly appear for a few seconds. It doesn't matter how cold it is, the sun feels so warm, like a hug from Heaven.  

On the day of Luke's funeral, I did my best to keep my head up and not cry. I didn't want anyone to worry about me or be more distraught from seeing me break down, especially my kids.  I know, "It doesn't matter", but it did to me.  I had done a good job until we got to the cemetery, and they uncovered the hole in the ground where I would leave my son. It was so small; just right for his small white casket. It was all I could do to stay.  I wanted to run away, or maybe climb in the hole with him.  As he was lowered down, I couldn't watch. I was ashamed I lost control and buried my face in my hands.  As I let go of my emotions, I could hear the sobbing behind me increase.  "This is why I didn't want to cry.  Everyone is going to pity me.  The kids are watching. They can't see me like this, but I just can't get it together.  No, yes, I can."  I began to lift my head up.  Jeremy grabbed a shovel he'd brought along.  This was his idea; he would later tell me he loved this, and it was important to him.  But I should've kept my head down.  The sight and sound of watching my husband literally bury his son was too much.  His actions were so tense, so angry, so unlike him.  My heart broke into a million pieces for him - for us.  I put my head back down.  As Pastor Helwig said a final prayer, I felt all of my emotions leave me.  I felt nothing but cold.  The sun hadn't dared to come out since Luke died, and it rained off and on.  All of a sudden, it felt like the sun was coming out.  I saw the light and felt the warmth over my shoulders!  I thought how wonderful it would be to just see the sunshine.  I found the strength to lift my head back up, but when I did, it was as cloudy as it ever was.  Dense, dark, low rain clouds with not a single break in them.  That's too bad, I thought.  But that light and the warmth.  It was so real!  Then it occurred to me - it was!  It was God - an angel, or maybe Luke himself!  I couldn't help but smile.  "Thank you, God.  I know he's safe with you now."  

When the clouds break, and the sun is revealed even for only a few seconds, I know it's Luke smiling down on me, God reassuring me.  I've never spent a lot of time looking at the sky, but it is so beautiful to me now.  I've never seen sunsets like I've seen in the last two months.  I think of how amazing the sun and sky and stars are.  The whole world has changed so much since Jesus lived here, so much since Moses and David and Solomon were on Earth.  But not the sun, sky, and stars.  It's amazing to think about seeing the same stars Jesus saw. The same beautiful sunsets that would've taken Moses' breath away.  The same sun that rose to reveal an empty tomb that Jesus ascended from shines down on me to comfort and warm my soul.  Heaven isn't as far away as it seems.  And God shows me He cares about me when He parts some clouds in Omaha, Nebraska.  Some of God's greatest miracles are the ones we don't ask for that we didn't know we needed.

Speak Up, Listen Up, and Live Up

How many times do we hear or read sad, tragic news happening in our world?   Depending on just how tragic it is, it will consume our thoughts and maybe truly even our prayers for a few hours, or a few days, but then we go about our lives.  We move on.  And, let’s face it; there are a lot of things to pray for in this world.  So much that sometimes it feels like too much, particularly when those tragedies hit us close to home and in our own home.  We may even blame God and His intentions.  We ask for answers and are upset when we think God is ignoring us.  We lose faith.  We live in a world where answers and results are just a Google search away.  Everything is instant, automatic, on-demand.  That becomes the box we put God in.  Because of that, aren’t we all just one tragedy away from losing faith altogether?  “God, I prayed to you, and you didn’t answer.”  “God, I was faithful to you and you sentenced me to live a life without my son.”  “God, what did I do to deserve this?”  The first day and the next day after Luke went to be in Heaven, I was angry.  I was so upset with God.  “Could you be anymore unfair to us?  Maybe I deserved this, but Jeremy didn’t.  You know what kind of father he is, why him?  Why would you take HIS baby?  All of the babies in the world, why Luke?  God, you didn’t even give us time to pray and ask you for a miracle.  You just took him.  He wasn’t even sick; there was no warning.  You didn’t let me tell him I love him and see him smile one last time - just one more smile.  Yes, I’ve sinned, but I thought you forgave me.  Why me?  Why Luke?  Why take Grace’s best friend?  We loved him with all our hearts and trusted you to keep all of us safe, and then you didn’t.  Why did you give me the most beautiful, incredible gift I would ever receive, and then take it away after only five months?!”  Oh, I had words for God.  But, just like after an argument with anyone else I love, I started feeling bad.  I felt bad for saying and thinking those words.  I started listening.  I listened to my husband voice those same angry words to God, and I heard how untrue and wrong they were.  But, I also heard the answers to the questions I was asking because He had already put them in my heart.  I knew God wasn’t being silent and had purpose and He hadn’t hidden it from me.  He took Luke because He knew we could handle it.  Let that sink in.  You’ve heard the saying, “God won’t give you more than you can handle.”  How many times did I hear people tell me, “I don’t know how you’re even upright.  I couldn’t even get up if it were me.”  And it’s not about getting out of bed.  God could care less if you get out of bed or not.  It is that we are one tragedy away from giving up on everything, including and especially God.  It’s that it’s apparently only easy to love God when He is blessing our lives here on Earth.  It is so easy to praise Him when he is giving life to our children and keeping us safe and making our lives here more and more comfortable.  And as soon as this world gives us trouble, as Jesus told us it would, we want to point the finger at God.  We want to throw Him out and blame Him and question Him and all of a sudden His Authority and Mightiness means nothing to us. 

So let me tell you some of God’s answers to a few of those questions, honestly:  Why take our baby?  Because he’ll be waiting for you.  You will look forward to getting to Heaven.  He’ll be safe.  He’ll never have to suffer the pain of a broken bone, a broken heart, or a broken faith.  Isn’t that why you baptized him?  So that he would enjoy the blessing of an eternal life in My presence.  Ok, but why did you take him like that?  Because he didn’t suffer.  Because that would’ve been more than you could handle.  Because you had already prayed for him.  I was there when you baptized him.  His sin was forgiven and his soul was ready.  Why take Grace’s best friend?  Grace will have many friends, and now she has an angel.  Your children will look forward to getting to Heaven to be reunited with their brother.  Heaven will always seem closer, realer to them for that reason.  Ok, so why me, God?  You wanted my attention.  You wanted it, you got it, so now what?  Matthew 16:24:  Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.  What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul?  Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?  For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father’s glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what he has done.  I tell you the truth, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.” 

I have read and heard this verse many times before, but it’s never resonated like it does now.  Probably because before this I wasn’t listening to God.  I had to open my heart to truly hear God’s calling.  Now there is no escaping the fact that my number one priority here on Earth is to get to Heaven to see Luke again.  I have one life to live and one purpose.  And say I go on living life, and I don’t reject Jesus as my Savior, and whenever He chooses to call me home or come again, I do end up standing at those pearly gates.  I can picture that moment very clearly in my mind - the excitement to see my son who I’ve missed so much!  At this point, it’s all real.  I believed it, so I’m there, but in that moment what regrets am I going to have?  I trusted it enough to get myself there, but who from my life on Earth is going to be missing this?  Did I do my best to share the Good News with everyone, especially the ones I loved?  Did I honor God with my life, my time, my talents, my treasure, my children, my marriage?  Is God himself not going to ask me?  As I wave to Luke on the other side of those shiny gates, waiting impatiently for me, is God not going to tell me He saved my son from death and a sinful world and I just kept that to myself?  He did all of that, yet I only occasionally shared my faith with people I already knew were fellow Christians?  He calls us all to speak on His behalf to others and to speak to Him.  If God is really number one in my life, I should be having way more serious, sincere conversations with Him, but I’m not. If God is in first place, I shouldn’t be so reluctant to pray with my kids in public, like when we’re out to eat, but I am.  If I am going to trust that God carried my son up to Heaven and will do the same for me, shouldn’t I trust Him more than I am?  Absolutely!  But I make excuses and worry I won’t have the right response if I talk about Jesus to someone who doesn’t believe or doesn’t know him yet.  I worry how others will judge my words and me.  I pray in private for the same reason.  I’m worrying about things that aren’t my business and I don’t have control over and that don’t matter at all.  Ultimately, I worry because I’m not praying.  I’m not having serious, difficult conversations with God, because I’m hiding my distrust in Him, like He doesn’t understand, like He doesn’t already know.  I’m also afraid to listen.  I want to say my piece to God, when I tell him it isn’t fair about the tragedies in the world, including my own, and act like He isn’t listening or hearing me.  When in reality, I’m the one who isn’t listening to Him.  We always want God to bless us and fight our fights for us, but He wants to know why we not only aren’t fighting for ourselves, but why we aren’t fighting for Him?  Why aren’t we blessing Him and His church and His people – which is everyone on this Earth because He put them here – and for a purpose!  Listen.  Look around you.  If you are reading the words that I am writing, your life is pretty good.  You own or at least have access to some kind of amazing, internet-connected device, which means you have access to electricity to charge that device.  Probably drinking water, indoor plumbing, heat, hot water, food – lots of food!  There are so many people in this world who have none of that and still believe God has blessed their lives.  Because He did.  He came, He conquered, and He will carry us Home.  He turned tragedy into triumph on the cross, and He will do it in your life and my life when we are willing to speak up and talk to God, truly talk to him, honestly, because He already knows.  Then be ready and eager to listen.  Now obviously God doesn’t talk to us directly like He did to Moses in the Old Testament, but He does through the Spirit and through our faith.  Instead of saying, “What Would Jesus Do?” try, “What Would Jesus Say?”  Maybe the answer is obvious.  Maybe Jesus really already said it and it’s waiting to be heard in the Gospels.  Maybe you’ll have to deny yourself and take up your cross to hear it like I did.  Finally, be ready to live it.  Coincidentally enough, usually the answer isn’t going to be what we want and it isn’t going to be easy, but you trust your life to the vehicle you drive and the crazy, texting drivers around you everyday, why not trust God a little more?  What’s the worst that could happen when you trust God?  No tragedy ever can take from you the free gift of faith and your keys to your heavenly Home.  If He did it for me, He’ll do it for you!

Two months

My name is Shonni.  I am a stay-at-home-mom to four fabulous kids, except as some of you may know, one of my babies is in Heaven now.  By the grace of God, my children, my husband, and myself were brought to faith in Jesus.  After the loss of our son, Luke, two months ago to the date, the overwhelming tone of those around us was concern and helplessness.  Everyone seemed to feel helpless, probably because in reality they were.  So I felt, and even still feel, very empathetic, and I want to tell everyone, I am fine.  Well, some days I’m not.  But, I do trust that I will be.  The reason I believe that – and, I mean the only reason I believe that – is simple.  Jesus.  I don’t always get it right.  I’m a sinner just like everyone else, and whether I want to believe it or not, my sweet, innocent, smiling baby boy was also full of sin, being born to sinful parents into a sinful world.  We all deserved God’s wrath and punishment.  Pretty depressing, right?  BUT, God sent His only son to conquer life, sin, death, earth, and hell.  He did it for me, for Luke, for you, and for everyone.  Jesus is for EVERYONE!  Amazing.  So amazing, yet we forget, ignore, and sometimes reject the words that man spoke so clearly.  So amazing, yet we don’t trust the power of the actions that man took so deliberately.  So amazing, yet we doubt or distort His perfect Word – the Bible.   So amazing, yet some people refuse to believe any of it at all.  Those are the people I desperately want to reach.  I want everyone to remember, recognize, trust, and freely accept Jesus as their Savior so that we may all enter the kingdom of God, just as Luke did.  I’m no saint, anyone who knows me knows I say and do the wrong things everyday, just ask my husband. ;)  That is a tough pill to swallow, wake up the next day, only to fall short and screw up that day, too.  But I even named my daughter Grace so I wouldn’t forget that I can’t do anything without God’s grace.  Jesus said: “In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

So, as I stated, I am not a saint.  I am not a preacher.  I am not even a writer.  I am just an ordinary, imperfect mother, wife, sister, daughter, granddaughter, friend, stranger.  But, I am a voice.  God gave me all of my blessings and woes and brought me to this place.  (Did I mention I was adopted?!) I don’t think He did all of this for me to be silent.  He has put it in my mind and on my heart to share with others the glory of the place my son and His son call home.  I pray to overcome the fears I have in doing so – fear of being judged by others, fear of losing friends, fear of upsetting someone, fear of being wrong, fear of committing to writing at all.  I will pray that someone who doesn’t believe or is distant from what they believe will possibly read what I write and feel drawn closer to God.  I pray that I will read what I write and feel drawn closer to God.  I will pray for God to open my heart and help me heal and receive His unconditional love and grace, so that I may give unconditional love and grace to everyone in my life as well.

In this day and age, I feel like others fear speaking their faith openly and freely because they are scared of being persecuted.  They know, just as I know, that they are and I am not perfect.  People who want to hate what I am saying are going to judge and criticize my life, my imperfections and shortcomings.  I’m not going to lie, I fear my husband reading what I write.  I fear him criticizing me trying to talk about “living for Christ” after having a meltdown over how he loaded the dishwasher.  But all I can do is pray.  Pray for him to forgive me – again and again.  Pray for patience next time, because there will be a next time.  Pray to thank God that He and he will still forgive me and there will be a next time until my sinful temper is soothed. 

I don’t aim to convert anyone to Christianity - only the Spirit can do that.  I just aim to see you in Heaven.  If I said I could give you a free trip to Disney World, would you say no? Heaven is like Disney World without the lines – and the admission isn’t paid in money but in faith.  At least consider the invitation.

I’m sorry in advance if any of the things I say offend you or you disagree with.  I invite anyone’s criticism and comments, but first, please do me a favor and pray about it.  My email is shonni.johnson@gmail.com

Thanks for reading, and God loves you!