So, my day was filled with some...shall we say...unique things. My dear friend Devon arrived early to begin painting an incredible oak tree on my wall. I found an amazing idea on Pinterest that involves framing and hanging your family tree on the branches of a tree. Pictures to follow...:) Super excited!
BUT, my other dear friends dropped in for a minute...exclaimed about how gorgeous the tree was and we began a fun conversation. And what do you think went through my children's heads? Yep, you guessed it. "Rock on! Mom is distracted! Let's go crazy. She won't notice until it's too late!".
So, I had just finished some spaghetti and was about to dish up when my friends arrived. So, I am oblivious to what happened next. Gentry had one of those big bouncy balls, about the size of a baseball...and he chucked it across my kitchen and it bounced right into my big pan of spaghetti sauce. THEN, he thought it would be beneficial to fish the ball out with the spatula. With his first attempt, he missed the ball in the pot and flung a massive glob of spaghetti sauce all over my tile backsplash. Oh what FUN that must have been...because he proceeded to do that several more times. That is, until Dad found him and pointed it out to me. Wow, all I could do is laugh, the mess was so massive and my kitchen was so red. Needless to say, he got to clean up every last bit of it and though the whiny hour battle of getting him to complete it to my standards wasn't my favorite moment of the day...I am thankful to have taught him the lesson of consequences. I sure wasn't tackling that mess, I'll tell you that! Now, to see if he learned anything....I will let you know I am sure...
Oh, and I bet you think that's all....I wish. Did I mention my sweet daughter was battling strep throat all day? Sweet thing was in need of some TLC so I was moving in several different directions today...you all have been there I am sure.
During one of those moments, we're talking about 15 minutes here people...I sent Easton and Ransom up to their room to play. I remember commenting to Devon that the boys were awfully quiet...never a good sign. Turns out Easton had closed Ransom in the bathroom with him while he pooped. That right there wasn't the most thoughtful act if you ask me....sometimes it stinks to be the little brother. Buwahahah! I CRACK myself up. Buwhahhahah! (Obviously I need to go to bed.)
Anyway, somehow Ransom got the bright idea to reach around his brother and fish out some poop from the toilet. Did this said brother think it was a good idea to stop him? Nope. I have no way of knowing whether or not he encouraged him...but let's just say I'm not ruling it out. So, after following the sounds of giggles I opened the bathroom door to find Ransom coated in brown dots smearing said poop onto my bathroom cabinets. Really?! Really?!
I read in "Wild Things" that I should get used to asking "What were you thinking?!" when raising boys...but REALLY?!
All I can say is pray for me...and while you're at it, you might want to say a prayer for THEM as well.
Best part of the day though...my AMAZING tree...at least now I'll have photos proving where they have gotten all their craziness from...;)
Love,
Netty
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
If You've Ever Been Prone to Judgement...
I was young. It was cold in the sterile room. My heart was numb. I didn't feel...I didn't speak. I was scared. I was determined. My name was called. The hall was long and my mind was panicked. The doctor was male and it was my first pelvic exam...I was pregnant...and I didn't want to be. I was not given pain medication. I was given a woman's hand to hold...while I was told I would feel some "discomfort".
I was screaming inside once the "procedure" began to abort my baby. I didn't consider it that though. It was simply "tissue" to me at the time. It was the most excruciating pain of my life until then...and since. I was asked if I was okay by a nurse with kind eyes filled with pity...but she was a stranger...and I was convinced that strength was what was required in that moment...so I didn't speak or cry out...just writhe on the table in agony. It's what I deserved right? Anyone who can voluntarily kill their own baby must be the lowest type of person...right? I sure thought so. For it is after that moment that I stopped crying...that I stopped loving...that I decided I didn't want or deserve children...that I began a very long journey of self-loathing. There isn't a judgement one can make that I didn't heap tenfold onto my shoulders. At one point, I decided that taking my own life would be best...and it wouldn't have been committing suicide, it would have been well-deserved murder for what I had done. No amount of achievements could atone for her death...no amount of fulfilled goals after were worth it. Nothing I did seemed like anything but a lie.
The truth is that my baby went from a peaceful place to one of extreme trauma and passing...all in the name of...convenience...of "Choice"...of secrecy...of fear...of control on my life...of selfishness...of unmet goals for my life...of reputation.
I am free though and so is she. I am forgiven and so are you. I am free of what judgements you may pass toward me. I truly don't care what others think toward me now...that took a LONG time. It has been a LONG journey but God led me there and it is so joyous to be free from that weight. To know that my baby went straight into the arms of Jesus and she is waiting for me, while she dances with her Uncle...to rest assured that I am loved beyond words by God and by her...that she understands now and is gracious to her mother and is waiting to meet her parents one day.
We use all sorts of heartless humor in our culture...we make light of people's pain without even thinking about it..."Are you gay?!" Well...someone is questioning it. And they are hurting and unsure and terrified of being vulnerable enough to let us know it for fear we are going to crush them...and we just might...."What are you? Smokin' crack?!"...well, one of my heroes is and they are ashamed and hurting and they don't know what to do about it...and they are still my hero. "Is that baby yours or is it a brother from another mother?!"...have you ever been trapped in that pain and shame before?..."Man, aren't you grumpy! Aren't you getting any?!"...well the truth is, that spouse hasn't felt genuine love and intimacy from their betrothed in several years. None of these are funny. There IS a story behind every life...and we haven't walked in it.
And chances are one of these people are sitting in the room with us at some point...and they are hiding and in pain. And we have the potential to help heal and to show grace and to LOVE...and CERTAINLY if we proclaim to follow Christ...we can't forget the gospel and what it meant and what it came to do for us. Am I condoning abortion? Absolutely not! I wish it never existed but I AM certain that many christians are responsible for thousands of them due to religion's nature to lack grace and condemn and judge when one finds oneself caught in his or her own sin.
We have to be VERY, VERY careful with our words....they have the power to give LIFE or they have the power to DESTROY. Don't get me wrong...I've been there and will probably sin in that again. We all judge at some point or another....but my experiences are now leading me on a path to stop this...to hide from nothing and to own everything...no matter how ugly...and to hopefully set someone else free in the process.
Our God is a God of healing, of forgiveness and of love. He wants you to turn toward Him and to feel peace and joy and love like no other source can give. We have to recognize our need for repentance and forgiveness with humility before we cast the first stone...
I was screaming inside once the "procedure" began to abort my baby. I didn't consider it that though. It was simply "tissue" to me at the time. It was the most excruciating pain of my life until then...and since. I was asked if I was okay by a nurse with kind eyes filled with pity...but she was a stranger...and I was convinced that strength was what was required in that moment...so I didn't speak or cry out...just writhe on the table in agony. It's what I deserved right? Anyone who can voluntarily kill their own baby must be the lowest type of person...right? I sure thought so. For it is after that moment that I stopped crying...that I stopped loving...that I decided I didn't want or deserve children...that I began a very long journey of self-loathing. There isn't a judgement one can make that I didn't heap tenfold onto my shoulders. At one point, I decided that taking my own life would be best...and it wouldn't have been committing suicide, it would have been well-deserved murder for what I had done. No amount of achievements could atone for her death...no amount of fulfilled goals after were worth it. Nothing I did seemed like anything but a lie.
The truth is that my baby went from a peaceful place to one of extreme trauma and passing...all in the name of...convenience...of "Choice"...of secrecy...of fear...of control on my life...of selfishness...of unmet goals for my life...of reputation.
I am free though and so is she. I am forgiven and so are you. I am free of what judgements you may pass toward me. I truly don't care what others think toward me now...that took a LONG time. It has been a LONG journey but God led me there and it is so joyous to be free from that weight. To know that my baby went straight into the arms of Jesus and she is waiting for me, while she dances with her Uncle...to rest assured that I am loved beyond words by God and by her...that she understands now and is gracious to her mother and is waiting to meet her parents one day.
We use all sorts of heartless humor in our culture...we make light of people's pain without even thinking about it..."Are you gay?!" Well...someone is questioning it. And they are hurting and unsure and terrified of being vulnerable enough to let us know it for fear we are going to crush them...and we just might...."What are you? Smokin' crack?!"...well, one of my heroes is and they are ashamed and hurting and they don't know what to do about it...and they are still my hero. "Is that baby yours or is it a brother from another mother?!"...have you ever been trapped in that pain and shame before?..."Man, aren't you grumpy! Aren't you getting any?!"...well the truth is, that spouse hasn't felt genuine love and intimacy from their betrothed in several years. None of these are funny. There IS a story behind every life...and we haven't walked in it.
And chances are one of these people are sitting in the room with us at some point...and they are hiding and in pain. And we have the potential to help heal and to show grace and to LOVE...and CERTAINLY if we proclaim to follow Christ...we can't forget the gospel and what it meant and what it came to do for us. Am I condoning abortion? Absolutely not! I wish it never existed but I AM certain that many christians are responsible for thousands of them due to religion's nature to lack grace and condemn and judge when one finds oneself caught in his or her own sin.
We have to be VERY, VERY careful with our words....they have the power to give LIFE or they have the power to DESTROY. Don't get me wrong...I've been there and will probably sin in that again. We all judge at some point or another....but my experiences are now leading me on a path to stop this...to hide from nothing and to own everything...no matter how ugly...and to hopefully set someone else free in the process.
Our God is a God of healing, of forgiveness and of love. He wants you to turn toward Him and to feel peace and joy and love like no other source can give. We have to recognize our need for repentance and forgiveness with humility before we cast the first stone...
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Boudoir Night...
It started out as one of those unforgettable nights where your girlfriends persuade you to throw an impromptu slumber party...even though you've repeatedly told them you don't feel like it because you are still too bummed over your recent conflict with your honey just as he was leaving for work...and of course, THESE friends are the kind who tell you to get over yourself and to expect them in about an hour....that's what makes them so good.
After a couple hours of rich conversation and laughs, we get on the topic of feeling sexy and doing fun things for our husbands...to which I run upstairs to pull out my really cool photo album from a previous boudoir photo shoot a decade earlier. They are shocked I had done it and loved the idea! To which I replied, "Heck yeah! And he LOVES this book!". So we of course decide it would be an amazing thing to do again...and we were so right!
So the professional photographer was hired as well as the professional make-up artist...the time and date and food was planned and prepared...and the kiddos and Daddy-O were conveniently placed in other places. The invitation was sent and the price was set...didn't know if we would have anyone up for the challenge but instead I had the maximum number met in less than an afternoon...with more wishing they could make it!
Then the real work began. The work of getting us wives to believe in our beauty...to believe in our incredible ability to intoxicate our husbands...to believe that every inch of our bodies are celebrated by our grooms. The work of reeling us back in when our panic set in about the reality of what we had signed on for. Not all were work, a ton were pumped and thank God for that...they had escaped those lies and their freedom inspired others that night in growth in this area. And what IS so wrong with having a blown up picture of your WIFE in your garage instead of a stranger...okay, okay...so it MIGHT be a little awkward when family visits...
There were girls who tried to call and cancel but I wouldn't let them! There were women who texted the concern that they were fat or ugly or imperfect and therefore should stay home. My daughter read one of those over my shoulder and quickly responded with..."But that is so silly! Their husbands LOVE them and they aren't even fat! Besides it doesn't even matter because all that matters is that you are kind and loving to your husbands!" She was incredulous that a woman wouldn't live there instead. (For the record, Jaren is told how much her Mommy and Daddy love one another and that we have a very special relationship that is different from any other and part of that includes Mommy wearing very pretty stuff that Daddy likes because he thinks that I am beautiful. We feel that is much better than being curious and not having answers or a place to go to learn...and much better than learning from her equally confused classmates who don't have any idea either).
I couldn't help but be convicted when I heard my 6 year-old daughters words. Where had I gotten so off-track? What happened to my youthful innocence? Why...when I had been doing really great at granting myself grace and feeling peace...would I slip back into the old lies of our culture? Why did I have such high standards for my body when my body had been nothing but kind to me and had produced and fed four precious children? At what point did I start believing the lies of our culture that say I must be plastic...a fountain of youth...perfect. My husband sure hasn't been complaining about that body...only that I would work it a little more and gain some more confidence!
So the coaxing and encouraging calls were made and the house was packed with 15 amazing women. Some were there to create anniversary presents...some were there to give their hubbies the best birthday gift of their marriage to date...others were there to be fed TRUTH and to ROCK it with their superstar poses.
We all came with our ideas of what poses we wanted to try...some involved the hood of a truck, others involved running medals around necks, others involved cowboy boots and a ton of sass. It looked like a lingerie bomb had gone off in my house, and it was awesome!
Girls are raised to be so modest and that's not altogether a bad thing but we aren't taught to feel comfortable naked, and then comfortable naked in front of our husbands...much less half-naked in front of other girls. It was a lesson in how much more confident a woman became when she had her friends cheering her on...whooping and hollering and telling her how amazing she looked and how much her hubby was going to LOVE what she was doing for him...and for herself! And you wanna know what? I dare say that the largest women there were the most confident and the thinnest women there had the hardest time going through with it. There were even several tears...but girlfriends can be amazing encouragers.
And in the end, we had a viewing party where all of us got back together to see the finished products...to laugh together and to exclaim how AMAZING everyone looked. It helped to hear others compliments. It was so great to hear some exclaim, "I had NO IDEA I could look that beautiful! I can't believe how pretty I am!".
I got emails, texts and phone calls for at least a month afterward...stating how much that night blessed their sex lives, their confidence, their body image, their relationships with their husbands. Culture and sadly, even christian culture, can try all they like to persuade me that I am doing something wrong by being sexual with my husband but I will not believe that. I will claim TRUTH...that sex in marriage is a gift and one God INTENDED for GOODNESS between a man and wife.
In the words of two brilliant people, Phyllis and Glenn Hill..."The world has let Satan claim sexuality for too long. People of the light abandoned sex, music, movies, Hollywood, entertainment, etc....and then looked back and said, 'There is only darkness in there'. We as Christians need to reclaim sexuality instead of running from it".
So, most of you who know me, know that I will talk on this subject and I will invite you to boudoir photo nights and passion parties. And that I will do my best to share my struggles in this area, my hurdles, my pains and my convictions...because it is TOO IMPORTANT and too fun not to.
After a couple hours of rich conversation and laughs, we get on the topic of feeling sexy and doing fun things for our husbands...to which I run upstairs to pull out my really cool photo album from a previous boudoir photo shoot a decade earlier. They are shocked I had done it and loved the idea! To which I replied, "Heck yeah! And he LOVES this book!". So we of course decide it would be an amazing thing to do again...and we were so right!
So the professional photographer was hired as well as the professional make-up artist...the time and date and food was planned and prepared...and the kiddos and Daddy-O were conveniently placed in other places. The invitation was sent and the price was set...didn't know if we would have anyone up for the challenge but instead I had the maximum number met in less than an afternoon...with more wishing they could make it!
Then the real work began. The work of getting us wives to believe in our beauty...to believe in our incredible ability to intoxicate our husbands...to believe that every inch of our bodies are celebrated by our grooms. The work of reeling us back in when our panic set in about the reality of what we had signed on for. Not all were work, a ton were pumped and thank God for that...they had escaped those lies and their freedom inspired others that night in growth in this area. And what IS so wrong with having a blown up picture of your WIFE in your garage instead of a stranger...okay, okay...so it MIGHT be a little awkward when family visits...
There were girls who tried to call and cancel but I wouldn't let them! There were women who texted the concern that they were fat or ugly or imperfect and therefore should stay home. My daughter read one of those over my shoulder and quickly responded with..."But that is so silly! Their husbands LOVE them and they aren't even fat! Besides it doesn't even matter because all that matters is that you are kind and loving to your husbands!" She was incredulous that a woman wouldn't live there instead. (For the record, Jaren is told how much her Mommy and Daddy love one another and that we have a very special relationship that is different from any other and part of that includes Mommy wearing very pretty stuff that Daddy likes because he thinks that I am beautiful. We feel that is much better than being curious and not having answers or a place to go to learn...and much better than learning from her equally confused classmates who don't have any idea either).
I couldn't help but be convicted when I heard my 6 year-old daughters words. Where had I gotten so off-track? What happened to my youthful innocence? Why...when I had been doing really great at granting myself grace and feeling peace...would I slip back into the old lies of our culture? Why did I have such high standards for my body when my body had been nothing but kind to me and had produced and fed four precious children? At what point did I start believing the lies of our culture that say I must be plastic...a fountain of youth...perfect. My husband sure hasn't been complaining about that body...only that I would work it a little more and gain some more confidence!
So the coaxing and encouraging calls were made and the house was packed with 15 amazing women. Some were there to create anniversary presents...some were there to give their hubbies the best birthday gift of their marriage to date...others were there to be fed TRUTH and to ROCK it with their superstar poses.
We all came with our ideas of what poses we wanted to try...some involved the hood of a truck, others involved running medals around necks, others involved cowboy boots and a ton of sass. It looked like a lingerie bomb had gone off in my house, and it was awesome!
Girls are raised to be so modest and that's not altogether a bad thing but we aren't taught to feel comfortable naked, and then comfortable naked in front of our husbands...much less half-naked in front of other girls. It was a lesson in how much more confident a woman became when she had her friends cheering her on...whooping and hollering and telling her how amazing she looked and how much her hubby was going to LOVE what she was doing for him...and for herself! And you wanna know what? I dare say that the largest women there were the most confident and the thinnest women there had the hardest time going through with it. There were even several tears...but girlfriends can be amazing encouragers.
And in the end, we had a viewing party where all of us got back together to see the finished products...to laugh together and to exclaim how AMAZING everyone looked. It helped to hear others compliments. It was so great to hear some exclaim, "I had NO IDEA I could look that beautiful! I can't believe how pretty I am!".
I got emails, texts and phone calls for at least a month afterward...stating how much that night blessed their sex lives, their confidence, their body image, their relationships with their husbands. Culture and sadly, even christian culture, can try all they like to persuade me that I am doing something wrong by being sexual with my husband but I will not believe that. I will claim TRUTH...that sex in marriage is a gift and one God INTENDED for GOODNESS between a man and wife.
In the words of two brilliant people, Phyllis and Glenn Hill..."The world has let Satan claim sexuality for too long. People of the light abandoned sex, music, movies, Hollywood, entertainment, etc....and then looked back and said, 'There is only darkness in there'. We as Christians need to reclaim sexuality instead of running from it".
So, most of you who know me, know that I will talk on this subject and I will invite you to boudoir photo nights and passion parties. And that I will do my best to share my struggles in this area, my hurdles, my pains and my convictions...because it is TOO IMPORTANT and too fun not to.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
2nd Anniversary of My Loved One...
Okay friends, I don't intend to be Debbie Downer these next few weeks but I am trying to transfer these annual entries from my grief journal, onto this site...April 11th will mark five years since my beloved big brother went to Heaven...so I have three entries to add before then.
Again, this is meant to bless anyone who has had a loved one go to heaven...or in case you haven't yet, and need to better understand my grief process and others...
April 11th, 2009
I'm on "your" bench at Radnor Lake and I've just now caught my breath. Only you could get me to hike! I think I just met an angel...or definitely someone God placed...literally...directly in my path. I had no idea where I was going today...just that I wanted to try to find your bench and write about you today. I had a couple directions and set off alone to find it...not certain I would. There was no other person when I began but then I noticed a woman walking above me about 20 yards...she provided a visual for where the path wound around the hill so I quietly followed behind. I was roaming the terrain looking for a bench that had your initials and your beloved Ali's carved in red...the sight where you proposed to her...
Once I topped the hill...I saw a bench...but I also saw the woman lying down on it on her back with her eyes closed...how to politely explain to this woman what it TOOK for me to get to this place...alone...today. There was no other way around it, I had to disturb her so I could see if it was the right bench. She sat up and my heart skipped a beat and broke all at once...there were your initials carved in your signature penmanship.
The woman was odd and I had an agenda and a STRONG desire to be alone to write but she didn't seem to GET that. She stayed on one end of the bench and I on the other...I didn't talk, just got out my journal and began writing...secretly hoping she would get the hint. She started asking me questions and I told her why I was there. She told me HER brother MIKE was killed a year ago and felt we must have been meant to meet. She sat awhile while I wrote...not really sure what to do with the awkwardness of the situation...soon she said she was going to leave and give me some privacy but that she wanted me to have the necklace she was wearing...she gently lifted them from around her neck and placed them in my outstretched hand. She said they were green jasper beads. I'm not real sure what she said exactly because as usual, I wasn't trying to be a good listener. She said the beads/rocks are meant to open your heart and that she hoped I was able to open my heart and that they would help me to do the necessary work it takes to get through our pain and grief. She placed them in my hand and I thanked her in the best voice I could make and she walked away...leaving her lingering and good perfumed scent behind...my eyes followed her until she was no longer visible...my heart aware of how supernatural the whole thing just was.
Yet again, I am reminded of signs all around each of us who are still here mourning your loss. People, objects, symbols, animals, birds....God is constantly reminding us that He hurts with us, He grieves with us and that He heals our hearts...even when it seems an impossible task.
Once again, I found myself waking on this day and looking at Easton as my time reference to how long I have survived without you. I'm always struck by how long it's been since I've seen you...that his life was just beginning when yours was just ending here on earth. And now, he's talking and running and pitching fits.
I miss you so much...in so many ways...I'm often caught off guard at how many times and how many ways I'm reminded of you and the hole I feel in my heart each time I'm reminded that you aren't her in the flesh anymore. Thank God for Michael, Ali and Mel. You would be so proud of each of them. I'm trying to take care of your girl for you, as are all of us. She's so strong, graceful, beautiful and resilient...and she loved you so, so much. I am so thankful to have her in my life.
Most of all, I want you to know that you are still here in so many ways and that your life was one that lives on forever in each of us. You were unforgettable and your humor and your ability to love left us with innumerable memories that bring us joy and make us laugh in spite of the pain.
Thank you for the life you led and the love you gave so freely. It helps the pain sometimes to think about what you might say in different circumstances that arise for me...just hiking up here, exercising for the first time in years, I could hear you cheering me on...SPECIFIC words of encouragement that only you would say to me.
Two years seems like a good amount of time but I'm still waiting for all of this to get better. In some ways, I can feel the peace and comfort growing but in so many other ways, missing you still takes my breath away and I find myself gasping for air....the pain is so great. There aren't enough words to express how much I miss you brother. I look forward to seeing you again for eternity.
I pray that I make you proud with the rest of this life I must live. I pray for peace in my heart about your secrecy with me. I pray for peace about living through the night of your passing. I pray I don't feel a loss like this again. I pray I use this experience to bless others in pain.
I know I have a lifetime ahead of me of joy and laughter and love. I wish so much you could enjoy my children...and the futures they have. Thank you for loving me the way you did. It was a rare gift and one I will hold near to me and treasure all my life. I love you always. You are with me always...till we meet again...
Again, this is meant to bless anyone who has had a loved one go to heaven...or in case you haven't yet, and need to better understand my grief process and others...
April 11th, 2009
I'm on "your" bench at Radnor Lake and I've just now caught my breath. Only you could get me to hike! I think I just met an angel...or definitely someone God placed...literally...directly in my path. I had no idea where I was going today...just that I wanted to try to find your bench and write about you today. I had a couple directions and set off alone to find it...not certain I would. There was no other person when I began but then I noticed a woman walking above me about 20 yards...she provided a visual for where the path wound around the hill so I quietly followed behind. I was roaming the terrain looking for a bench that had your initials and your beloved Ali's carved in red...the sight where you proposed to her...
Once I topped the hill...I saw a bench...but I also saw the woman lying down on it on her back with her eyes closed...how to politely explain to this woman what it TOOK for me to get to this place...alone...today. There was no other way around it, I had to disturb her so I could see if it was the right bench. She sat up and my heart skipped a beat and broke all at once...there were your initials carved in your signature penmanship.
The woman was odd and I had an agenda and a STRONG desire to be alone to write but she didn't seem to GET that. She stayed on one end of the bench and I on the other...I didn't talk, just got out my journal and began writing...secretly hoping she would get the hint. She started asking me questions and I told her why I was there. She told me HER brother MIKE was killed a year ago and felt we must have been meant to meet. She sat awhile while I wrote...not really sure what to do with the awkwardness of the situation...soon she said she was going to leave and give me some privacy but that she wanted me to have the necklace she was wearing...she gently lifted them from around her neck and placed them in my outstretched hand. She said they were green jasper beads. I'm not real sure what she said exactly because as usual, I wasn't trying to be a good listener. She said the beads/rocks are meant to open your heart and that she hoped I was able to open my heart and that they would help me to do the necessary work it takes to get through our pain and grief. She placed them in my hand and I thanked her in the best voice I could make and she walked away...leaving her lingering and good perfumed scent behind...my eyes followed her until she was no longer visible...my heart aware of how supernatural the whole thing just was.
Yet again, I am reminded of signs all around each of us who are still here mourning your loss. People, objects, symbols, animals, birds....God is constantly reminding us that He hurts with us, He grieves with us and that He heals our hearts...even when it seems an impossible task.
Once again, I found myself waking on this day and looking at Easton as my time reference to how long I have survived without you. I'm always struck by how long it's been since I've seen you...that his life was just beginning when yours was just ending here on earth. And now, he's talking and running and pitching fits.
I miss you so much...in so many ways...I'm often caught off guard at how many times and how many ways I'm reminded of you and the hole I feel in my heart each time I'm reminded that you aren't her in the flesh anymore. Thank God for Michael, Ali and Mel. You would be so proud of each of them. I'm trying to take care of your girl for you, as are all of us. She's so strong, graceful, beautiful and resilient...and she loved you so, so much. I am so thankful to have her in my life.
Most of all, I want you to know that you are still here in so many ways and that your life was one that lives on forever in each of us. You were unforgettable and your humor and your ability to love left us with innumerable memories that bring us joy and make us laugh in spite of the pain.
Thank you for the life you led and the love you gave so freely. It helps the pain sometimes to think about what you might say in different circumstances that arise for me...just hiking up here, exercising for the first time in years, I could hear you cheering me on...SPECIFIC words of encouragement that only you would say to me.
Two years seems like a good amount of time but I'm still waiting for all of this to get better. In some ways, I can feel the peace and comfort growing but in so many other ways, missing you still takes my breath away and I find myself gasping for air....the pain is so great. There aren't enough words to express how much I miss you brother. I look forward to seeing you again for eternity.
I pray that I make you proud with the rest of this life I must live. I pray for peace in my heart about your secrecy with me. I pray for peace about living through the night of your passing. I pray I don't feel a loss like this again. I pray I use this experience to bless others in pain.
I know I have a lifetime ahead of me of joy and laughter and love. I wish so much you could enjoy my children...and the futures they have. Thank you for loving me the way you did. It was a rare gift and one I will hold near to me and treasure all my life. I love you always. You are with me always...till we meet again...
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