Grateful...

I haven’t written in awhile because it didn't seem like there was much to write about. But recently I realized that things or “life” couldn't really be better than it is right now. Life has been so GOOD lately. And it’s been a long time since I could say that. I am, in the depths of my heart, grateful beyond words for so many things:

My husband. Bruce has been such an amazing source of strength for me this past year. He never once made me feel like my emotions were too much for him to handle. I just appreciate and love the way he loves me in every way.

My kids. They make my heart so full and happy. I love that the Lord specifically chose Emelia and Wesley to be our kids. Every stage and each new thing they learn makes life so FULL.

Olivia. She is her own category. I love this little girl that I don’t even know. I love that I have a daughter waiting to meet me in heaven. Her short little life has made mine so rich. This little girl taught me so much. She made me press into the heart of God like I never had before and find him and figure out who he is in the midst of deep heartache and pain. And I’m a different person because of that.

My friends. I’ve been amazed at the friends who have stood by me. I’m blessed beyond measure, to have new and old friends, near and far, that the Lord has strategically placed around me through such a life altering year.

Our Church. Wow. I remember the first few times I went to church back in September. I sobbed through worship because I felt so betrayed. I thought I would never be able to worship again. I had tears streaming down my face through every message because I felt like Jesus was talking to me himself. I love the Holy Spirit and I love that our pastor and elders let the Spirit lead them. I’m so grateful for our “family” there. Bruce loves it. I love it.

Spring. I love this new season. The windows have been open, the fresh air feels so good. Bruce and I have both finally been doing a few more little things around the house to make it feel more like our “Home”. We moved into our house just weeks before we lost Olivia, and since then it feels like everything has been in the same place because of my plunging into the depths of despair. So praise Jesus for our home and for spring!!

Baby girl. I have a baby bump, and I love it. I love that I can’t see my feet when I look down. I think I smirk whenever I look at my tummy. I love knowing there is new life in there. I can’t wait to lay my eyes on her and love her and cuddle her and watch her with her brother and sister!

God. Above all these things, God has been so faithful to me. In my darkest hours he answered me. I love living life with Him and knowing Him.

So that’s me these days. I’m really happy, really grateful.

Hope for the future

There’s part of Olivia’s story that not many people know about, I’ll do my best to do it justice. More as time goes on, I associate much hope with Olivia’s story. I knew it wouldn’t end where it did in the hospital that day.

We left Hawaii (our 5^th anniversary celebration) without our third baby. I can’t even begin to describe what it felt like to leave such a huge part of my heart as we flew out that day. Things happened so fast that it really felt like a dream. I kept staring down at my stomach in disbelief that our baby wasn’t there anymore.

Over time, my heart has healed some, and every day I’m a day closer to being “whole” again. In the following weeks and months after our trip, the Lord started to highlight some very significant things in my past that I feel in no way could be “coincidence”.

Ever since I was young, I’ve known that if I would spend my life “campaigning” for something, it would be for unborn babies’ right to life. I love babies, since I was two years old if there was a baby in the room it was like a magnetic force, I couldn’t keep my hands off of them.

I lived in Hawaii for a few of my teen years while my parents served with YWAM. I loved every second of it. I loved the lifestyle, the people, the culture…everything. Nothing spoke of God’s power to me like the ocean. I could stand in awe at its edge for hours. I loved being surrounded by God’s magnificence.

A few years after we moved back to the mainland, I returned to Kona to do an Intro to Children’s Social Services school with YWAM. Each of us students were there because God had put a burning passion for an area of children at risk in our hearts. For me it was unborn babies and unwed mothers. I knew that I wanted to spend some time of my life serving in these areas. At the end of the semester our main grade project was to study and do a presentation for the class on our area of children at risk. I spent weeks studying and gathering statistics on abortion in Kona. It is astonishing how much we don’t see until we really look.

Fast forward to 2005, the Lord strategically removed me from (a) situation I was in and placed me in my favorite place in the world, Kona, Hawaii, to draw closer to the Lord and “get back on track” with Him. To make a very long story short, my forever dream of “getting married, barefoot in the sand” came to pass within a few short months. Bruce and I got married on June 17^th, 2005. (Who knew that we’d be burying our third child there just 5 years later??)

A couple weeks after we lost Olivia, I was having an especially hard day. It was complete turmoil and it was deeper than any sadness I have ever felt. I spent hours wailing on my face, many people were praying for me, and it was very obvious that something deeper was going on. At the end of the day, we got a phone call from a family friend who had spoken to a friend in Kona. She had found out that the doctor that was “on-call” the night I went into pre term labor was the #1 abortion doctor on the island, who was also an OB. He performs abortions in that hospital on a regular basis. What? How can you do both? How can you practice such extremities? I will never be able to describe the anguish I felt the moment I found out that the doctor that refused to help me was an abortion doctor. I felt so dirty that he even touched me or my baby.

We’ve since found out that there are no pro life doctors in Kona. We’ve also found out that we were not the only ones who have suffered this sort of tragedy under the care of this particular doctor.

After the Lord has brought these things to remembrance, I can’t help but to think that Lord will use Olivia’s life to fuel a fire that has always burned deep in my heart. I’m not sure how yet, but I feel like the Lord is already beginning something in Hawaii, while he’s stirred my heart to fight for unborn babies and bring awareness to this area of darkness on the islands.

I just wanted to get this on paper because there’s a sort of personal accountability in writing things down. I don’t want to just drop this and say, “oh well, my baby died in the hands of an abortion doctor in Kona, that’s really too bad”. There’s got to be more to this. So I pray that the Lord will continue to cement this in our hearts and connect us with locals in Hawaii so that we can help bring change to these amazing people. I look forward to fighting for them. I have no idea what, when or how, but I fully believe that as Bruce and I make ourselves available, the Lord will use us to make himself known in this area.

The Race

Last year I trained for and ran my first half marathon. Training for the race was the hardest physical thing I’ve ever done, but I learned a lot about myself and a lot about life. I love to run, and for those of you that run, you know what I mean. For those of you that don’t (you should try it) think I’m crazy, but bare with me anyways.

During my training, my life suddenly revolved around one thing; Preparing for Race DAY. This ONE day would be the culmination of my months of hard work and precise measurements. Early morning runs, finding the perfect pair of socks, the only hair tie that “works”, the perfectly balanced snack to refuel at the exact mile marker your body needs, putting one foot in front of the other. It’s harder to do the longer you go. I trained and trained and trained some more. I would run, a mile or some days a block further than the day before. There was no doubt that when I pushed myself I would see the improvement next time I ran, so even though it took everything I had in me to run that day, the next day I was able to go further or faster.

Hours that add up to at least weeks of running, all pay off on race day when you cross that finish line. I can honestly say that I enjoyed every minute of that half marathon, because I trained for it, I was ready. I knew how to pace myself to finish. In fact I think I had a corny grin on my face for a good part of the race. I crossed the finish line, and actually felt like I could keep going. It was exhilarating for me.

Hebrews 12:1 says “…and Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.”

There are many parallels in living life with God and training for a race. I feel like I’ve been training these past few months, not for a marathon, but something huge the Lord is putting before us. I think about how easy it is for me to get distracted, instead of looking ahead, I look back. And just as this would be detrimental to me in training, it can be detrimental to my faith to keep questioning what happened with Olivia. Of course I have questions that will never go away, but I cannot focus on them. I need to look ahead. My questions will be answered on the other side of heaven. It would be so easy to just sit and stare at pictures of Olivia, and let it tear my heart to pieces until there’s nothing left, but that would get me nowhere. I want to hear Jesus. I want to see him. I want to help people that need Jesus. I want to fight for other babies, so they have the chance at life that Olivia never had. I want to have the Lord’s perspective on life around me. I want to love like Jesus does. I want to trust him fully with everything in my life, no matter what.

I have to keep going, even though there are times I don’t want to, I know that every choice I make will either push me further or closer to the end. I want to run with perseverance, letting nothing hinder me. Every training run takes effort and endurance but it’s worth it. Every day I choose to live in joy is worth it. “The joy of the Lord is my strength”, it propels me forward into the next thing. I set my sights on what the Lord has called us to here on this earth, and what the pay off will be eternally…and I put one foot in front of the other with my eye on the prize. If crossing the finish line was easy we wouldn’t need to train. The Lord calls us to walk in places that few will attempt, but I want to. And I want to be ready, I want to be trained to run, and run to win…SO each day I choose to live righteously. I choose to do the things that will help me finish the race with joyful heart.

A Different View

Recently I've found big meaning in some little things in life. I love the way that we learn about life and God through our kids.

Scenario #1

Last Saturday we were headed out on a family outing. We needed to drop Bruce's Land Cruiser off at a shop in town for an inspection. It was 78 degrees, the top was off, and there was only ONE car seat buckled into the back of the Cruiser. Naturally Emma climbed right into the Cruiser and started buckling herself to go for a ride.

I loaded the car and buckled Wesley into the boring but perfectly suiting Camry. Not before I clicked the last buckle, Wes caught a glimpse of Emma in the Cruiser, and his world instantly fell apart. He started wailing and screaming, tears streaming down his bright red face. Riding with their Daddy is their favorite thing to do.

I tried reassuring Wesley that when we picked up the Cruiser at the end of the day, it would be his turn to ride in the Cruiser. He continued to scream the ENTIRE way to the shop, until Emma and Daddy joined us in the Camry.

My words meant nothing to Wesley, but only because his 22 month old mind did not have the capacity to understand what I was saying. My heart broke for Wesley. I understand exactly why he was upset, and I knew there was no way that I could help him understand that in time he would have his "heart's desire". I didn't mind that he was crying, I love that he loves to go with his daddy. It's part of who he is.

Later I feel like the Lord showed me a parallel. In the same way that Wesley didn't understand the whole picture, often times I don't understand the whole picture. Right now, I'm really sad. My heart really hurts, and I cannot imagine what the Lord could do to redeem this situation, but he will. My human mind doesn't have the capacity to understand the plans and the works of the Lord. But I believe in the truth of God. I believe that the Lord will work this out for good, because I love him. Just like I wished Wesley could trust me that day, the Lord wants me to trust Him...and so I do.

Later in the day, it was Wesley's turn to ride home in the Cruiser. He grinned from ear to ear the entire ride home. I don't think he even remembered the torture he was put through earlier in the day. I think joy of the moment was worth the wait.

Scenario #2

Emma brought home a helium balloon from a birthday party. It was a source of joy for the kids for days, until one day we came home...it was starting to deflate. Emma saw the balloon and immediately asked "why did Jesus make the balloon lose it's air?"

It shocked me that Emma would instantly "blame" Jesus for the loss of helium. Jesus didn't make the balloon lose it's air. It's because of science, that's just what happens to a balloon. And then it hit me, that, as ungodly as it sounds, it was my first human instinct to blame Jesus for Olivia's death. After Olivia was born I asked, "Why? Why would you do this to her? To me?". It wasn't until Emma asked about the helium that I realized just how absurd that was. Jesus didn't take Olivia. Death and sickness happen because we live in a fallen world.

Thank you Jesus for giving your life on the cross to overcome the world and give us life eternally. And thank you for the view from a child.

Plan B

A friend of mine shared this on facebook. I could listen to this everyday. Definitely worth the time.

http://www.newspring.cc/series/pete-wilson/plan-b/#ooid=gybnBqMTrN-bxN-C2OBYKRaqXXwm0IIh

An older post I never posted...

Beauty for Ashes – 9.13.10

Life is getting a little easier lately. I’m getting used to the idea that this deep longing to “Mother” Olivia is always going to exist. I often have these panic attacks, where I realize how awful I am feeling, and I want to “hurry up” and get out of this “place” that I’m in. I don’t EVER want to feel this way. Ever. Again. I’ve realized that I need to learn how to exist, be healthy, and flourish, emotionally, physically, and spiritually while these feelings are a part of me now. They will never go away.

Every Friday is hard, it’s the weekly reminder that I should be “so many” weeks (this week was 28) pregnant with Olivia. Ugh. And after every Friday, without fail, comes the weekend. The two days that the world looks forward to because it’s mostly full of family, friends and fun. Well the weekend that I remember the most right now is the weekend before Olivia was born. It was a weekend full of family and friends and everything happy and fun. It was VACATION!! So every weekend is marked with that memory, the last weekend Olivia was kicking in my tummy. Then there’s Monday. Every hour of the day holds a specific memory that leads up to the worst moment of my life. Some Mondays at 9:30, I wail like I did that night, because I FEEL it all over again. So that’s 4 days out of the 7 of the week that take a lot of effort, to just make it through the day.

So what do I do with this? How am I going to make it? Some days, I don’t think I’m going to, but I always do (huge smiley face).

Yesterday, the day on my Calendar that said “28 weeks!”, was, like I said, a really hard day. My Mom came to my rescue and reminded me of everything I needed to be reminded of. I also had a “Therapeutic Massage” scheduled for that day, thank the Lord!! And therapeutic it was, for my mind, body and Soul.

I was able to talk and pray with Mary, the masseuse, and I walked away with something that I believe will carry me through many of these desperate moments. She shared something with me that seemed so simple, but so eye opening at the same time.

Isaiah 61:3

“…and provide for those who grieve in Zion--to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.”

Of course I’ve heard this before. I’ve read this many times in the past few weeks, and I even believe it. But I didn’t know exactly how this was going to play out for me. Is this some far off in the distance promise that I will see fulfilled when I look back on my life when I’m 80 years old? Cool. I hope it means at least that. But it would be really cool, if this could be something I am able to live out right here, right now in the midst of my pain and sorrow.

Mary and I talked about this scripture and I was asking what her thoughts were on it. If there’s any way to make this verse real in my life…how do I do that? She put it like this: How do you forgive? It’s with your heart. And when you truly forgive someone with your heart, there is freedom. So this verse, when I apply this to me, is a heart action. So with my heart, I’m trading my ashes for beauty and my mourning for gladness, and there is freedom. Wow. I already feel “lighter”. I physically feel that truth.

Sisters

Last night I was awake in bed for quite some time. I was awake, admiring the beauty of my 3 year old. Somehow she convinced us that there was a dinosaur in her room, so she needed to sleep with us. I cave much easier these days, but I must admit that I absolutely love the moments that Emma is curled up next to me in bed. Last night I stared at Emma and could not help but see her little sister Olivia in her. It’s so funny, Olivia’s picture and Emma’s newborn picture look very different, but Olivia looks like a miniature of what Emma looks like right now. Their facial features are exactly the same.

I couldn’t help but picture Emma holding her sweet sister; I can vividly see the look on Emma’s face. She has this smile that is impossible for her to hide, that she smiles when she is doing something she absolutely LOVES. She’d be smiling that smile; my heart has butterflies when I just picture it.

I let my mind wander into the future (which I rarely do). I wondered what they would have been like as sisters when they were teenagers. I wondered what Olivia would have been passionate about. I wondered who she would have married. I pictured Emma and Olivia as sisters with their own babies.

I also noted the fact that Olivia in our family is “Me” in my family growing up. I am the second girl, the third child. Wow, our family would not be complete without me :) And, Wow, our family is not complete without Olivia. She will always be missed. Always.

As much as I feel the stab in my heart that physically takes my breath away when I think about these things, I love that I have two daughters. Sisters. I love my girls, Emelia and Olivia. My heart explodes with love for them. I love to picture the day that Emelia sees her sister, Olivia, in heaven, smiling that “smile”.

I love my girls!

(thought I'd share the "smile" I was speaking of)