Merry Christmas, Josh

Merry Christmas, Josh. I miss you so much.

I love you,

Mom

A Hero in the Arms of Jesus

My friend's son passed away this morning. A current veteran of the US Army who donated his organs so that others might live. He is a hero.

May God's grace, mercy and peace surround this family both now and in the days and years to come.

Praying for a MIiracle

The Eve before Christmas Eve and I am praying. I am begging God for a miracle. A friend's son is on life support. She is on her way to see him from another state. So many parallels, but this is not about me.

Merciful Father, please, I beg you to be with this mother. Grant her clarity of thought. May she feel your presence even in the midst of the terror that surrounds her. I also ask that you grant this family a miracle if at all possible. Surround this young man and may he feel Your arms around him. May he find comfort in your love. Please fill his heart with peace. Where there is life, there is hope and you are the God of all hope. If it please you, I pray that his life would be spared.

Amen

Focus

Joshua's Well has given me a focus, a drive, a reason.

No, this will not bring my Joshua back to me and it will not take away the pain. Somehow though, by working towards this common goal of raising enough money to build this well, it brings light to the darkness and fills my heart with hope.

The well will be a memorial to my son whom I love so much. The well itself means nothing. It is the life that the well will bring to the people that is the true memorial.

I know Joshua would approve. I know it would make him smile to know that so many people are working together to make this happen.

Mike and I never give each other gifts at Christmas. So, I was suprised last night when he said to me that he was giving me a Christmas gift. The gift he has promised me is that he will send me to Guatemala for the dedication ceremony of Joshua's Well.

I am so touched by his understanding of my need to be there and by his willingness to make sure that I get to go. I am blessed with such a good husband that would give so unselfishly to meet my heart's desire.

In the beginning, after Josh died, I expressed to a few people that I had a dream to some day go to spend some time helping out in an orphanage overseas. It looks like I may also get to do this as well when I go to Guatemala.

We do not yet know the timing. That depends on when we can get the funds together and when the well is dug. I believe it will happen. I have faith that this is meant to be.

Joshua's Well

I received a telephone call from Josh and Alissa's paternal grandmother this week. We talked for a few minutes and then she began to share with me what was on her heart. As she began to share, the tears began to flow down my face. For over two years now, since Josh's death, I have searched my heart for a cause that would be a lasting tribute in memory of Josh. I have donated to various charitable organizations including Heifer International and also SHIP (Safe Harbor InterPhilippines) a non-profit, residential care facility for abandoned, abused, neglected and orphaned children in Baguio City, Philippines that was founded and is maintained by my good friends John and Kim Piet. While I continue to support S.H.I.P. with my donations, I have been praying about something that we could do that would specifically bear Josh's name and be a lasting tribute to his memory. Josh's grandmother provided me with exactly the project for which I have been searching.

Dick and Kay Hall (Josh and Alissa's grandparents) went on a trip this past year to Guatemala where among other things, they spent time in the poverty stricken villages as well as in the orphanages. They were working hand and hand with an organization called Cause Life. In these villages, there is a serious lack of clean water, which is a basic necessity of life. Dick and Kay were so moved by their experiences in Guatemala that when they came home, they were touched to try to raise money for a well for a village and to have that well dedicated in memory of Joshua. In fact, the well will be named Joshua's well. I can't think of a more beautiful tribute to my precious son than to know that adults and children alike that otherwise would not have access to clean water, would be able to have life giving water from Joshua's Well.

The following news release was taken from Cause Life's Web Page and references the trip that Dick and Kay took to Guatemala:

I DO THIS FOR LOVE

We just returned from Guatemala where we took a passionate group of people for a week. They came from California, Virginia, North Carolina, Washington, and so many other places. Some were pastors, businessmen and women, politicians, and everyday people. The youngest was 9 and the oldest struggled to walk. Each of their stories was different, but every one of them shared the same desire . . . to make an eternal difference in the life of another.

Through the causelife project, they caught the vision that giving clean water is the key to providing life. I can’t tell you how excited I was that we were dedicating 5 new wells! Each well was made possible through a person, just like you, who saw a need and acted.

These wells are in villages where there has only been dirty, contaminated water. Infant mortality is 50 percent and higher in these places because of water born diseases. The conditions are deplorable and miserable. The only sound that fills the air is the sound of babies crying out from hunger and thirst.

But now these villages are experiencing a transformation. When these wells are turned on kids start laughing and playing in the water. Mothers begin filling buckets. The whole mood of the village instantly changes. It is the change that comes from hope replacing despair.

Hope of Life in Llano Verde, Guatemala has an incredible staff of dedicated people. They all come from the local villages. One of them said this week, “I don’t need things. Why am I going to have things when these children . . . they have nothing. How can I buy things when I see them die everyday? I don’t do this for money . . . I do this for love.”

These wells in Guatemala, and other parts of the world, are not a testimony to money. They are a testimony of compassion motivated to action! They are a testimony to love.

Cause Life FAQ


*****************************************************************

The following is information taken from Cause Life's web page:


Clean water is essential for life.But more than 1 billion people in the world lack access to clean water. This causes over 2 million unsafe drinking water deaths every year, and most are children.

Every day, 6,000 children die from water-related illnesses such as diarrhea, malaria, typhoid, cholera, worms, and parasites. With each sip the number of deaths grow. This contaminated water is the only water they have ever known. And for some, it will be the only water they ever have.

The lack of clean drinking water in developing countries is the starting place of a thousand miseries. It exacerbates malnutrition, sickness, infant mortality, poverty, and illiteracy.

Their greatest need is clean water.


WATER CHANGES CHILDREN

Children’s lives become a reflection of the water they drink. When the water is contaminated, every area of their lives becomes affected. Contaminated water brings diseases from waterborne parasites and bacteria. Typhoid, dysentery, malaria, and cholera create sickness and death.

Children cannot go to school because their parents need them to fetch water. Walking for water is the most common chore that keeps children busy during the day, preventing them from attending school. Even if they have time, the high number of illnesses stops many from going to school.

This lack of education continues the cycle of poverty found in developing countries. Short-term solutions such as trucking in water or food are just that, short term. These quick fixes absolutely save lives, but they do not create self-sustainability. Instead, they create dependence without progress.

The root problem will always be dirty water. It is a life characterized by sickness, poverty, illiteracy, and early death. But when dirty water is replaced with clean water, everything changes.

High mortality rates drop because babies no longer suffer from parasites and diarrhea. Children are healthy enough to attend school and they have the time without long walks to a water source. Some may eventually attend a university where they will receive a higher education, bringing hope to their villages and communities

There is more food from gardens and irrigated land. Livestock is healthier and provides better meat. Families eat what they need and can sell what is left at the market.

Productivity increases, poverty decreases, and children’s lives are transformed.

WATER CHANGES HEALTH

"Don’t drink the water!"

The only times we hear those words are in travel warnings to countries in Latin America, Asia, and Africa. But, children living in those countries drink the water every day and they are dying from it.

A single sip of water is all it takes to be infected. A single drop of water can contain over one billion bacterial organisms. Diarrhea, malaria, typhoid, cholera, worms and parasites, and trachoma just to name a few.

All the pills in all the bottles in the world won’t help a child who drinks dirty water every day.

It is often said that the best way to treat an illness is to make sure you don’t get it in the first place. Although it almost seems too simple, the best medicine really is prevention.

Prevention can be as simple as a cup of clean water.

WATER CHANGES HUNGER


You see a starving child. You think: Food.

Yes, they need food, but what they need first is clean water. Life-giving nutrients from food cannot be absorbed because of the different diseases and parasites brought about by the contaminated water they are drinking.

In Guatemala, 44 percent of children suffer from chronic malnutrition. But it is the lack of clean water that is the main factor for this high number. It is estimated that every year 860,000 child deaths from malnutrition worldwide could be prevented by providing clean water.

Over 840 million people worldwide suffer from malnutrition. At least 799 million of those live in developing countries and 153 million are young children.

Our first thought will probably always be that we need to provide them with more food. Ending hunger will bring transformation, but providing food is not enough.

We must start with clean water. We can work on alleviating hunger through providing water.

WATER CHANGES EDUCATION

Each year in Africa, 40 billion hours are spent just on fetching water.

In sub-Saharan Africa and many other areas around the world, children must walk an average of four miles each way, every day, just to provide water for their families. This takes hours.

The consequences are tragic. Children have no time for school.

Even if they had time, the water they drink keeps them too sick to attend school.

Globally, children lose 443 million school days each year because of waterborne illnesses. And every year, 400 million children become infected with worms, which severely limits their learning potential.

But when children have access to clean water, school enrollment increases and education improves, further reducing poverty.
*************************************************************

The need is there and I have joined with Dick and Kay to try to raise money to dig this well for the people in Guatemala who need clean water so desperately. In doing so, I will be able to help provide a lasting memorial to my son not only through the well that bears his name, but also through each child that is given the chance of life by simply providing them with clean water.

Dick and Kay hope to travel back to Guatemala when the well is dedicated. I am hoping that Alissa will be able to make that trip as well. I am even praying, that by some miracle I would be able to find someone to take care of our animals so that Mike and I could also make that trip.

If you would like to help by donating to Joshua's Well, you can do so by sending a tax deductible donation to:

World Help
PO Box 510
Forest, VA 24502

Be sure to mark your gift as a memorial for Joshua Hall and to go towards the drilling of Joshua's Well.

If you would like to donate and prefer to do so online, you can go to causelife.org and send in your donation in this manner. Once again, be sure to mark it for the Joshua Hall memorial fund for Joshua's Well.

For those who are unable or don't feel a desire to donate, we would still appreciate your passing this information on to others who might be interested. Even if you can't send a gift, you can pray, and that would mean the world to us.

I think it is very fitting that we should do something for others in memory of my son who was always giving unselfishly of himself to help those he felt were in need.

Peace,

Tammy

It's not just about me..........

When I started this blog, I kept it private. I did not share it with anyone. However, I knew from the first typed sentence that there would come a time when I would share it. From the very beginning I knew that the words here had to come straight from my heart and must be shared. I knew instinctively that this would be my survival. I knew that somehow by speaking my heart and sharing it with the few who chose to listen, I would painfully find my way.

Those who read this blog and never comment, I thank you for taking the time to read it. Those who have commented, even just once, thank you for your words. To those who have written me privately to offer prayers on my behalf, to offer words of comfort, or to share with me your pain, I thank you.

You see, this blog is not just about me. Although I write as if no one will ever read this, I know that others are reading it. Some will come simply out of curiosity, still others because they want to reach out to me, but others will come because they too are experiencing the pain of grief.

Can we compare grief?

Is my grief great than yours or your grief greater than mine?

Can we compare the loss of a spouse to the loss of a parent?

Or the loss of a friend to the loss of a child?

Can we compare our hurts that come from divorce or the loss of a relationship with a relative?

What about those who have lost their jobs or their homes? Can we tell them that they don't have the right to grieve because our grief is great than theirs?

My point is that grief is grief. Pain is pain. Loss is loss. It would be unfair of me to say to anyone that they pain they are feeling can't compare to my pain. It would be unfair of me to judge someone and tell them that they should do better, be better, or get over it because what they are suffering does not compare to what I am suffering.

My point is that I write these words in this blog for myself, but in doing so, I am writing for all those who grieve, in hopes that we can all realize that we are not alone and to give us all a voice.

Whoever you are, wherever you are, whatever you are suffering...........you are not alone. There is no way to compare grief, but we can share in our grief and somehow, we will make it through.

Heavy, heavy heart tonight

My heart is so heavy. It's been a difficult day. I have been on the edge of tears all day and clinging to the joy that I can find in the simple things, as much as possible.

I dreamed last night that Josh was with me. He was looking for food and seemed concerned about being hungry. I assured him that he had nothing to fear, as he would never be hungry again. He then looked at me and said, "I am not worried about me. I am worried about the children in the world who have no food."

I woke feeling as though I had been with him..........joyful...............and sad at the same time. While just a dream that was probably spurred by my thoughts of him earlier in the evening, I could not shake that feeling of urgency that I must do something to help.

I was thinking of Josh earlier in the day and how he was always so giving. The Christmas before he passed away, he put so much of his money in the jar at school for a needy family, that finally his shop teacher told him he was not allowed to give anymore.

I will be giving, as I always do, to a charity that provides not only food but a home for orphans. I will do so in the spirit of my son who gave so much of himself just because that's the way he was.

How I miss him!

Thanks

I realized after writing the previous post about the anger that I was feeling, that my anger and depression were robbing me of the thankful heart that I usually have. Having experienced the depths of the depression while trying desperately to cling to my hope in a loving Heavenly Father, I can tell you that one can not force the black cloud of depression and grief to fade away. However,as I expressed my hurt and anger, giving me an outlet for that pain I began to see glimpses of hope once again. I am by nature not an angry person. In fact, my nature is to propogate peace and love. Expressing my frustration, my anger, my grief in fact opened the door for me to once again be able to see the Light as strange as that may sound. Still in the depths of my darkness with Thanksgiving approaching, my heart longed for the peace that I always find in expressing my thanks from a greatful heart. However, the greatfulness and thankfullness were just not there. Or, perhaps they were there but just so deeply buried by my pain. I prayed in desperation, asking God to help me be thankful for the little things and to be able to focus once again on all the good things in my life. At some point over the Thanksgiving weekend, the tears began to fall cleansing my heart and opening the door for thankfulness. Once again thankfulness filled my heart, my soul, my being...............and the anger subsided.

Will it return. Yes, I am sure it will. Will I be able to see past the hurt? Maybe not for a while. Will this cycle continue? Perhaps.

What I do know is that God has not forsaken me. What I do know is my heart is full of thankfulness. What this has taught me is that "Yeah though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil for God is with me!"

I hate the dark valley. I can't see God's face when I am there. It's scary and it hurts really bad. I don't want to be there. But, I must make this journey.

I am thankful for His grace and thankful that He gives me glimpses of light as I struggle through this valley.

I am thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving, Darling

I love you, Josh. On your most favorite of holidays, I miss you so much. Happy Thanksgiving, Darling. I know you and Angela are filling heaven with songs of praise and thanksgiving today.

Mom

My Struggle and Wise Words From A Friend

I've been struggling. Really, really struggling. Depression threatens to take over at times. Then there are glimpses of light. Hope. The realization that grief never goes away. That somehow this struggle is "normal".

So much going through my mind but no time to write. When I have time to write, I can't focus. After two years, the anger has surfaced. Lots of it. Anger that I must carry this pain. Anger that the rest of the world moves on while I carry this pain. Anger that I was robbed of my child. Anger that the one who killed my son walks free and lives. Lives. He lives while my son's ashes are divided between the cold, barren earth and the simple but beautiful box beside my bed where I sometimes touch those ashes. Anger that I am unable to some how breath life back into the dust that was once the body of my son. Anger that I can no longer hold his earthly body close in a warm embrace. Anger that the one who took his life has given life to a beautiful baby girl while my son will never be able to give me grandchildren to hold.

"Oh, that's just wrong of you to think and feel that way", I can hear so many say.

Walk in my shoes. Feel the pain. Then, tell me that this normal, natural reaction to grief is something that you can avoid. I think not. For some the anger comes early. For others it comes late. It's not the anger that is wrong. It is what I choose to do with this anger. Repressed for a while now, I feel that it is complicating my depression. So now, here on my journal where I have always been honest, I admit that I am angry.

With this, I also accept that as these feelings come, I must find ways to deal with them and to release them as I am able. Easy to say. Hard to do.

I fear it will be a long winter as I struggle with my grief.

In the midst of these thoughts, I had a message from a friend. I feel the message is inspired. She is wise. She suffers a deep loss. She struggles. She loves. She shares with me.

Here is her message to me:

Coming to a realization that we live with grief for life is a big step,
and I think it allows us to live, because as long as we think we should
be 'getting over it' we are putting pressure on ourselves. To accept that
this is now part of us, and to move on with it, to grow with it, in a way frees
us to do just that.

There you go friends, family, acquaintances and world. She speaks the truth. This grief always is with us. We can't deny it. We can't walk away from it. We are forced to deal with it constantly. There are moments when the pain is a little less intense, but always it is with us like a heavy burden weighing us down.

Freedom? What is freedom when you carry a grief so great? I suppose freedom comes from accepting that the grief will always be there and the pain will never go away. Freedom comes from accepting that life will never be what you knew before. Neither will life ever give you what you once dreamed of and expected. Freedom comes from accepting that we are broken and that there is no way to fix it. Freedom comes from no longer trying to hide that brokenness but instead embracing it. Freedom comes from restraining from trying to socially put on a mask to hide the pain for fear that others wont understand. Freedom comes instead from allowing life to sort your friends out for you, knowing that the ones who really matter will still be there at the end of it all. Freedom is accepting that a part of you has already died with that child that was placed in the ground. Freedom is knowing that one day, one day you will see that child again.........hold him..................and be once again complete and alive.


Hold on heart. Hold on to that hope. Hold on to that faith.

Wishes

I really wish I could hold him one more time on this earth.

Blood~The Gift of Life

Yesterday was an emotionally draining day for me as I experienced being a blood donor for the very first time. The blood drive was in memory of our niece, Angela Faith, who passed away one year ago in October. I knew that I would be emotional, remembering this special young lady whose very own organs gave life to three people upon her death, but also remembering my son. Joshua loved helping people and was thrilled when he was old enough to begin giving blood. He was also a tissue donor upon his death and was an advocate of organ donation as well. (Due to complications with the harvest team, they were not able to harvest Josh's organs for donation upon his death.)

I will be honest, I was terrified to give blood not only because of the physical aspects of the procedure, but also because I knew how emotional I would get. There were times this week when I felt as though I just would not be able to go through with it. However, Saturday morning before going to the church where the donation would be taken, I felt strength flow through me as I thought of these two remarkable children who in life and in death gave of themselves so that others might live.

Before the blood even began to flow from my veins, as the nurse was prepping my arm to insert the needle, I began to cry. My wonderful family was there with me through the process. My mother-in-law never left my side, stroking my arm and standing over me. Her presence brought me strength. Angela's mother, my sister-in-law Cathy, also never left my side. We looked at each other and shared a moment through our eye contact that only two mother's who have lost their children can share. As the tears fell, the blood flow stopped. They tipped me back in my seat, threw an ice pack on my chest, and the supervisor came over and began prodding at my arm to get the blood moving again. "We've got to get you to relax", she said gently. I breathed deeply and the blood began to flow again after a few moments. Cathy whispered in my ear and said, "Your blood flowed two times............once for Angela and once for Josh." I shook my head as the tears continued to flow down my face keeping pace with the blood flowing from my arm.

The supervisor then leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Someone was sitting here with you from Above helping to get your blood flowing again." I shook my head yes. I knew it was true.

As I left the church after donating blood, I prayed that if possible, God would use this blood that I had given to save the life of a young person and give some parent a chance to hold their child just a little bit longer.

I know Angela and Josh are smiling.

Blessings on a Hard Day

Yesterday was so hard. There was no "reason" for the way I was feeling. I just could not shake the despair........the sadness.........the overwhelming sense of loss. There were moments when I felt I just could not go on. But,like He has done so many times, the Father touched me through the love of His children. An email from one and a phone call from the other. One who just "met" Josh through my grief blog and the other who knew Josh in person. Each of them blessed me with their words and with their kindness.

25 months

I hate being without you, Josh. For the first time, since your death, I have not mentioned to anyone that today's day marks another anniversary. 25 months. I'm trying to do better, but it still hurts so much. I wonder if anyone else remembers or thinks about the 16th as it approaches each month?

With the one year anniversary of Angela's passing, I couldn't help but think about the two of you up in heaven together. I bet you are picking on each other like you always did. Give each other a hug for me.

I love you, Josh.

Mom

Remember Angela

One year ago today, our niece Angela, went to heaven after a terrible car accident. Our hearts ache for our own loss. My heart aches for her mother.

Remember Angela

The Happiest Days

The happiest days are somehow the saddest. Proof that joy and sorrow do abide in the same heart.

My grandparents will be here with me soon. The joy in my heart is real. My Josh is not here with us. The sorrow in my heart is deep.

Dreams of Josh

I woke to a gentle rain around four o'clock this morning. I went out on the deck and of course, I thought of my Josh. When I went back to sleep, I dreamed of him. It was so clear and beautiful. He was younger and I held him lovingly in my arms for a long time. I told him that I love him. He said back to me "I love you" so clearly. Then, after a while, he was gone. I looked everywhere for him, but I couldn't find him. I woke up crying but not before these words came into my head from my son, "There's nothing there for me."

What a precious dream. What a comfort to know my son is right where he belongs, in the arms of the Father.

Let The Waters Rise

Let The Waters Rise

by Mikeschair

Don't know where to begin
Its like my world's caving in
And I try but I can't control my fear
Where do I go from here?

sometimes its so hard to pray
When You feel so far away
But I am willing to go
Where you want me to
God, I trust You

There's a raging sea
Right in front of me
Wants to pull me in
Bring me to my knees
So let the waters rise
If You want them to
I will follow You
I will follow You
I will follow You

I will swim in the deep
'Cuz You'll be next to me
You're in the eye of the storm
And the calm of the sea
You'll never out of reach

God, You know where I've been
You were there with me then
You were faithful before
You'll be faithful again
I'm holding Your hand

There's a raging sea
Right in front of me
Wants to pull me in
Bring me to my knees
So let the waters rise
If You want them to
I will follow You
I will follow You
I will follow You

God Your love is enough
You will pull me through
I'm holding onto You
God Your love is enough
I will follow You
I will follow You



There's a raging sea
Right in front of me
Wants to pull me in
Bring me to my knees
So let the waters rise
If You want them to
I will follow You
I will follow You
I will follow You

Fall

We just marked the second year anniversary of Josh's death on the 16th and now face the first year anniversary of our niece, Angela's, death. It weighs heavy on our hearts as the month of October approaches.


I believe Father takes some of his most precious children home in the fall. My grandmother, mother and Josh all went to Heaven in September and our sweet girl Angela went in October.


Still, with all the sadness, we have lots of reasons to celebrate. Fall is such a festive season. Even our Heavenly Father decorates the trees and landscapes in various colors for this special season. I still believe................no, I know.....that sadness and joy can abide in the same heart.

In Memory

Alter flowers in memory of Josh who is celebrating is second year in heaven.

2 Corinthians 5:8 (NKJV)

We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord

Two Years

It's been two years since my baby left this world. For the first time, I have no words.

This Journey

Tomorrow (the 14th) will mark the two year anniversary of the event that took Josh's life. The 16th will mark the two year anniversary of his death. The pain is still sharp and real, as is the loss. Father has shown me time and time again how He picks me up and carries me when I am hurting too badly to go on. He just loves me and wraps me in His arms. When enough time has passed, He gently puts me back down and says, "It's time to walk some more on this journey." Sometimes I kick and scream and cry and say, "I don't want to walk anymore." He firmly but gently forces me to take a few more steps. He is also quick to remind me that He will be right there holding my hand along the way. He is always quick to pick me back up again, anytime I just need to find shelter there in His embrace. He knows the perfect balance between the times when I feel the pain more intensely and the times when He allows me to rest. What an awesome, awesome Father we have!

23 Months

I try to ingnore the calendar and don't consciously know what the date is but the 16th of each month screams out at me demanding to be recognized. Sometimes I don't even realize why the darkness of this deep sadness is descending so heavily upon me until I look at the date and consciously acknowledge that the dreaded anniversary of my child's journey from this life to the next has rolled around yet again. I try to keep it inside each month and think that this will be the month that I "stop counting" but my soul screams out to recognize the date. How can a mother ever forget the day.............the moment..........that her child was taken from her?

Missing my precious son and wish the 16th held no significance to me.

I love you, Josh.

My grandmother's faith..............

Last night my grandmother called. She is a strong, beautiful lady who has always held strong to her Faith. She knows what it is to lose a child. She lost her only child, my mother. She endured the pain as she helped to raise her two grandchildren all the while exhibiting her undying Faith in a God who is good. Now, she grieves the death of her grandson. If anyone understands the pain I endure, it is my grandmother. She asked, when we talked, if I was ok. I said, "yes". She asked again, are you sure you are ok? I started to cry. She knows. I can be strong in front of everyone else but hearing my grandmother who knows my grief, who knows the pain of losing a child and a grandchild, asking again if I am ok and expecting to hear an honest answer, I broke down and cried.

I cried myself to sleep. I woke up crying. I need to cry. I need to release the pain in the form of tears. Sometimes the pain is just so hard to bear.

My grandmother is a wonderful example. I only hope that I can exhibit half as much faith as she has.

Happy Birthday, Joshua.

Twenty years ago today I first got to hold in my arms the precious, baby that I had carried in my womb for nine months. I was so thrilled to hold him in my arms, to count his fingers and toes, to kiss his fuzzy little head, and to smell his baby smells. How I wish I could go back to that day and hold him once again in my arms.
I miss him so much.

Happy Birthday, my Joshua Marlin. I love you so very, very much.

Mom

God is in His Heaven................

‎"God's in his Heaven -All's right with the world!" Originally from Pippa Passes by Robert Browning written in 1841. Hardly two years ago, my son had this tatooed across his shoulders. Twenty-two months ago today (16th) Joshua left the imperfect behind. Now, all is right in his world.

22 Months Since that Terrible Night

Tonight marks 22 months since that terrible night when the shot rang out that ended up taking your life. Everything in me hates that night. Everything in me hates these anniversaries of that night. I still sometimes scream out in my head saying that I know it can't be true. But it is true.

I am doing much, much better. The pain is the same. How can you lose a child and the pain ever be any better? I am learning how to handle the pain better. I have no choice.

I am stubbornly striving to dance in the rain. I read this quote yesterday and I thought of you:

Life isn't about sitting there waiting for the storm to pass... its about getting out there and dancing in the rain...even if it means getting wet.

So, I'm getting wet, Josh. Just like you use to do when the storms would come up and you would run outside laughing in spite of the lightening, thunder, winds and driving rain. Funny how I never tried to stop you. My heart wouldn't let me. To see you dancing in the rain made me smile. Now I am left to dance in the rain. I'm afraid I don't do it as well as you did, but I am learning. You are a good teacher.

I remember on this night 22 months ago how I dreamed but it was more than a dream. I truly believe God let your spirit touch mine as you passed from this world on to the next. So tonight, I will remember that final touch and celebrate that moment when you hesitated before going into the Father's arms to reach out and touch your momma one last time.

I miss you so much.

Mom

Does it ever go away?

Angela's mother asked me recently, "Does it ever get any better? Does the pain ever lessen with time?"

We were interrupted as I paused to try to formulate an answer that would not lead to despair. I know the question will be brought up again.

The pain never goes away. It's always there and will always be there. Some how, each day we find the strength to deal with it. We don't have a choice. We were not asked if we wanted this burden. We did not choose to lose our children or to have to endure this great sadness. Our choice is not whether we will deal with the grief but rather how we will deal with it.

The gift

It was a long, dangerous, lonely road and as we walked you grew weary. I looked down, picked you up, and you snuggled in my arms with your head on my shoulder. I carried you. I never felt the weight. You were not a burden at all. I just enjoyed holding you with your little baby face close enough for me to kiss. It was only a dream. For a while I didn't know that. It was a gift to be able to hold you again.

I love you, Josh.

The Ocean

The Ocean

By Tammy Cupp

She stands on the very edge with her toes in the water, remembering what life was like before the storm. The blues and greens melted together in her memory creating a clear, beautiful picture of peace and contentment. She goes there a lot to that place where tranquility still reigns and where she can find respite from the weariness she shoulders daily. As the gentle waves lap around her feet, she is constantly aware of their presence and very much in tune with their power.
It wasn’t’ always so. There was a time when she had only heard of the power of those waves but knew nothing of the terrors they held on a personal level. It was a calm day such as this when the tempest began. Totally unexpected she stood by the water’s edge admiring the beauty. Some days she admired it more than others. Some days, she took it for granted. She doesn’t really remember now whether the day the storm rolled in was one of those days when she was taking things for granted or not. She doesn’t remember a lot of things that took place right before the storm began.
What she does remember is that the storm came out of nowhere and was totally unexpected. She was just walking along, the sun was shining, life couldn’t have been better when all of a sudden the storms fury hit her full force and knocked her off her feet.
“This can’t be happening”, she cried out. I don’t know how to swim in this terrible tempest. The waves are pulling me under and I will surely drown. “
The water filled her lungs and she couldn’t breathe. She struggled blindly knowing that nothing would be able to save her. But miraculously, from time to time she would get her head above the water and get a quick breath. It wasn’t much………….just enough to keep her going. She cried out in weariness and frustration. How long must she endure this storm and who would help her?
In the midst of this struggle, a Supernatural strength surrounded her. For short periods of time, she would find herself relaxing in a strength that was outside herself. There was a sense of peace there even in the middle of the storm.
Then the Power vanished……………the spirit of strength and peace that surrounded her no longer seemed to be available. She cried out in terror. She could not do this alone. I will just quit fighting the storms fury. “I will relax, and become one with the waters that threaten to destroy me”, she thought.
As she began to let go, she suddenly realized that there were others with her, reaching out to her, touching her. They could not keep the storm from beating at her but their strength was giving her the added incentive to try harder, to not give up. When she grew weary, they supported her and while she could not make progress towards the shore while resting, she at least knew she was not drowning. That Supernatural Presence seemed to have left her, but in its place were all these people who shared their strength with her when she needed it most.
As she pulled harder for the shore the waves continued to pull her back. Every inch gained would be stolen from her time and time again. It took a long time, but eventually after much struggle, she felt solid ground. She finally found herself in a heap, lying on the sand and alone.
In a state of complete and total shock she thought, “That storm could not have been real. It must have been a figment of my imagination!”
Other than the ocean at her side, the debris scattered along the shore, and her own disheveled appearance, there was nothing to indicate the storm had ever existed.
But the pain was all too real, and she knew that the storm was not a figment of her imagination.
Somehow she picked herself up and began the process of walking along the shore once again. Although she was forever changed, she could not abandon that ocean, for it was her life. All she had ever dreamed of since she was a small child was to walk in this place. So she remains there on the edge observing the beauty and holding fast to the memories from before the great storm. At times, the waves come in again strong and furious and she is sucked back out to sea as she relives the big storm. In fact, the big storm has simply become a part of who she is and is always with her, even when the waters are calm. When the storm rears its ugly head, she no longer panics, knowing now that she will survive. She does grow weary at times and wishes that she did not have to endure these blasts. But, she knows now that if she looks hard enough……….opens her eyes……………she will either see that Presence with her or she will see others sent in His place. She knows now that He is always there and always has been. If she had never endured the storms, her eyes would have never been truly opened to His power and the awesomeness of His presence.
What once was just the gentle lapping of water tickling her toes, is now a constant reminder to this woman who endures the storms, that life is truly precious. In one instant it can all be taken away. She has learned to accept the gentle pull of the waves around her feet just as she completely accepts the waves of destruction as both being part of the same ocean. You can’t have one without the other. The beauty and the tragedy are complexly intertwined: the dancer and the dance become indistinguishable until all that remains in the memory is the beauty.

Reflections:
Someone mentioned to me at one point that some days the waves of grief just overtake us. That sent my mind in motion as I thought about this analogy. In my story, the little ripples of the ocean are life which at one time were filled only with joy but after grief reared it’s ugly head the ripples become a constant reminder of what is lost. While able to deal with the ripples of grief that consistently wash at our feet, grief also brings those huge waves of despair that completely consume us causing us to fear that we just won’t be able to make it through the storms. Of course, the original storm is an analogy of the moment in time when the loss was experienced and the subsequent storms are indication of how we relive that sorrow time and time again. The Supernatural Presence for me is my loving Heavenly Father who is always there whether I can see Him or not and the people reaching out to help are those who continue to care and understand that grief never ends and we need help getting through it from time to time. The complexity of the dance (the combination of joy and tragedy) is my way of acknowledging that I could not have one without the other. I could have only avoided the loss if I had never given birth to my son. That was never an option. The eighteen years I was able to touch Josh on this earth and the fact that I will forever remain his mother far outweigh the tragedy of being forced to say “goodbye” to his earthly body. The beauty of who Josh is will remain in spite of our earthly loss. This complex dance of life and death will one day end in such a way that only the beauty will remain. Of this, I am sure.

God doesn't come and go. God lasts.

Isaiah 40:25-31 (The Message)

25-26"So—who is like me?
Who holds a candle to me?" says The Holy.
Look at the night skies:
Who do you think made all this?
Who marches this army of stars out each night,
counts them off, calls each by name
—so magnificent! so powerful!—
and never overlooks a single one?

27-31Why would you ever complain, O Jacob,
or, whine, Israel, saying,
"God has lost track of me.
He doesn't care what happens to me"?
Don't you know anything? Haven't you been listening?
God doesn't come and go. God lasts.
He's Creator of all you can see or imagine.
He doesn't get tired out, doesn't pause to catch his breath.
And he knows everything, inside and out.
He energizes those who get tired,
gives fresh strength to dropouts.
For even young people tire and drop out,
young folk in their prime stumble and fall.
But those who wait upon God get fresh strength.
They spread their wings and soar like eagles,
They run and don't get tired,
they walk and don't lag behind.

Most of us our taught that God would love us if..........

God always entices us through love.

Most of us were taught that God would love us if, and when we change. In fact, God loves you so that you can change. What empowers change, what makes you desirous of change, is the experience of love.
It is that inherent experience of love that becomes the engine of change. If the mystics say that one way, they say it a thousand ways. But because most of our common religion has not been at the mystical level, we’ve been given an inferior message—that God loves me “when” I change (“moralism”).
What that does is put it back on you. You’re back to “navel gazing” and you never succeed at that level. You are never holy enough, pure enough, refined enough, or loving enough.
Whereas, when you fall into God’s mercy, when you fall into God’s great generosity, you find, seemingly from nowhere, this capacity to change. No one is more surprised than you are. You know it is a gift.

~Richard Rohr

People won't notice.............

When you stand in the rain and smile, people won't notice your tears.

20 Months

Twenty months today. The pain doesn't lessen, but it's true that the one who grieves grows stronger. The sweet days grow even sweeter. Love shines even brighter. The memories intensify. The longing to be reunited grows with each passing day. Holding close those who remain and resting in the knowledge that what seems like an eternity to us, is only a moment for those who have gone on. Always missing my baby boy.

Love Has Come

Love Has Come~ Mark Shultz

Well, I know this life is filled with sorrow
And there are days when the pain just lasts and lasts
But I know there will come a day
When all our tears are washed away with a break in the clouds
His glory coming down and in that moment

Every knee shall bow, every tongue confess
That God is love and love has come for us all
Every heart set free, every one will see
That God is love and love has come for us all

For anybody who has ever lost a loved one
And you feel like you had to let go too soon
I know it hurts to say goodbye
But don't you know it's just a matter of time till the tears are gonna end
You'll see them once again and in that moment

Every knee shall bow, every tongue confess
That God is love and love has come for us all
Every heart set free, every one will see
That God is love and love has come for us all

Oh, and on that day we will stand amazed
At our Savior, God and King
Just to see the face of amazing grace
As our hearts rise up and sing

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Thank You for the cross
Singing glory, glory, hallelujah
Christ has paid the cost

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Thank You for the cross
Singing glory, glory
Christ has paid the cost

And every knee shall bow, every tongue confess
That God is love and love has come for us all
Every heart set free, every one will see
That God is love and love has come for us all

Love has come for us all
Love has come for us all

And every knee shall bow, every tongue confess
God is love and love has come for us all
Every heart set free, every one will see
God is love and love has come for us all

Every knee shall bow, every tongue confess
God is love and love has come for us all
Every heart set free, every one will see
God is love and love has come for us all

Crying for me

From Toby Keith's song "Crying for me"

Even though it hurts the way it ended up
I’d do it all again
So play it sweet in heaven
‘Cause that’s right where you wanna be
I’m not crying 'cause I feel so sorry for you
I’m crying for me

Why?

Why lyrics

Songwriters: Mathes, Robert; Shamblin, Allen;

It must've been in a place so dark you couldn't feel the light
Reachin' for you through that stormy cloud
Now here we are gathered in our little hometown
This can't be the way you meant to draw a crowd

Oh, why? That's what I keep askin'
Was there anything I could have said or done?
Oh, I had no clue you were masking
A troubled soul, God only knows what went wrong
And why you'd leave the stage in the middle of a song

Now in my mind I keep you frozen as a seventeen year old
Roundin' third to score the winning run
You always played with passion no matter what the game
When you took the stage, you shined just like the sun

Oh, why? That's what I keep askin'
And was there anything I could have said or done?
Oh, I had no clue you were masking
A troubled soul, oh, God only knows what went wrong
And why you'd leave the stage in the middle of a song

Now the oak trees are swayin' in the early autumn breeze
The golden sun is shining on my face
The tangled thoughts I hear a mockingbird sing
This old world really ain't that bad a place

Oh, why? There's no comprehending
And who am I to try to judge or explain?
Oh, but I do have one burning question
Who told you life wasn't worth the fight?
They were wrong, they lied, and now you're gone, and we cried

'Cause it's not like you to walk away in the middle of a song
Your beautiful song, your absolutely beautiful song

It's raining

It's raining one of those "Josh" rains. You know, the kind where the thunder is rolling in the background................close but not too close. You can see the lightening from a distance. The rain is warm on my skin and it's enough to get my hair wet slowly. I stayed outside in it so that I could feel it on my skin and face and so that I could be close to Josh and keep his tradition of walking in the rain alive. When I came in, I made sure to track of the floor just like he would do. Those gentle rain drops are kisses from my baby. He's smiling. I love you Josh!

Mother's Day

Nothing in life brings more joy than being a mother. Nothing brings more sorrow than burying a child. I would gladly live a thousand lifetimes of sorrow in order to have the privelege to be be called "mother" by Josh and Alissa. Thank you, God, for blessing my life with these two children. May I truly celebrate this precious gift You have given me this Mother's Day.

Past Tense

Alissa came by tonight. She laughed and told funny stories about Josh. When she spoke of him, she spoke of him in the past tense. Always before she has talked about him as if he were still living. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. Part of me wanted to cry tears of relief that Alissa is beginning to acknowledge Josh's death. The other part of me just wanted to cry because I miss him so much. I didn't cry. I held it in. I laughed with her over the silly antics that the two of them participated in together. Now, Alissa has gone home and I am left here with my broken heart. Now, I will cry.

A Blessing For Absence

A Blessing For Absence - John O'Donohue

May you know that absence is full
of tender presence and that
nothing is ever lost or
forgotten.
May the absences in your life be full of
eternal echo.
May you sense around you the secret
Elsewhere which holds the presences
that have left your life.
May you be generous in your embrace of
loss.
May the sore of your grief turn into a well
of seamless presence.
May your compassion reach out to the ones
we never hear from and may you have
the courage to speak out for the excluded
ones.
May you become the gracious and
passionate subject of your own life.
May you not disrespect your mystery
through brittle words or false belonging.
May you be embraced by God in whom
dawn and twilight are one and may
your longing inhabit it’s deepest dreams
within the shelter of the Great
Belonging

Melt Down

It seems I only come to this blog now when I am extremely down. I have been doing fairly well recently with more energy and more of a zest for life. Of course, always hurting and missing my Josh, but doing better with dealing with things.

The last two nights I have only slept until 4 am and then 3 am and spent the rest of the night awake. It begins to wear on me after a while and this morning something relatively simple went wrong and I totally lost it. I had a major melt down with screaming (which I never do) and sobbing in a fetal position on the bed. Where did that come from? I don't like that part of me. Now, I am exhausted.............totally spent from all the emotion.

Here I am, Wide Awake

It's just a little before 2 AM and precitably, I can't sleep. Nineteen months ago around the same time of the morning, I got the call that Josh had passed away after they removed the life support. I miss my baby so much.

Tough Day

Sunday several of us ended up down at the cemetery after church. So many of us in the same family have lost loved ones in the past year and a half. We didn't plan to meet at the cemetery, it's just that we all had the same thing in mind.

Sunday afternoon, the bird cage arrangement that I had put on Angela's grave on Easter was still there. Monday when Angela's mom went to the cemetery it was gone. Someone must have stole it. I certainly can't understand why someone would steal items left at the grave side for deceased loved ones.

I wanted to take something else to the cemetery but was afraid to take another big bird cage. So, today I took a smaller bird on a nest. I hope no one steals it. Today is six months since Angela passed away. I am struggling today with her death.

I got up this morning and Alissa had left a print out of a conversation that I had with Angela on Face Book. In the conversation I said, "I love you". Angela responded back, "I love you more". When I read that this morning for the first time since she wrote it back in September, I started to cry and could not stop. How I miss my sweet little niece with her beautiful smile and her fun loving ways. It hurst so much to not have her here.

Today is the day Angela died and in two more days it will be the day that Josh died. My heart is heavy.

Do What You Think You Can't Do

You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

Easter Sunday at the Cemetery

It's Resurrection Sunday

This beautiful holiday has new meaning for me now that I have experienced the death of my child. The power of the Resurrection of Christ means that I have the assurance that one day I will see not only my Savior but also my son once again. I rejoice in this day that brings me the Hope that I need to make it through the days remaining that I have here on this earth.

Always something missing................

My day today was filled with business: cousins visiting, a 2.5 hour vet visit to catch up on routine vaccinations and other odds and ends. Yet, no matter how busy I might be, there is always an emptiness in my heart. I am always lost without my Josh.

The Woodcutter's Wisdom

The Woodcutter's Wisdom
by Max Lucado


Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, for he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure. A horse like this had never been seen before—such was its splendor, its majesty, its strength.

People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused. “This horse is not a horse to me,” he would tell them. “It is a person. How could you sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend?” The man was poor and the temptation was great. But he never sold the horse.

One morning he found that the horse was not in the stable. All the village came to see him. “You old fool,” they scoffed, “we told you that someone would steal your horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. You are so poor. How could you ever hope to protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better to have sold him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. No amount would have been too high. Now the horse is gone, and you’ve been cursed with misfortune.”

The old man responded, “Don’t speak too quickly. Say only that the horse is not in the stable. That is all we know; the rest is judgment. If I’ve been cursed or not, how can you know? How can you judge?”

The people contested, “Don’t make us out to be fools! We may not be philosophers, but great philosophy is not needed. The simple fact that your horse is gone is a curse.”

The old man spoke again. “All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse is gone. The rest I don’t know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can’t say. All we can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?”

The people of the village laughed. They thought that the man was crazy. They had always thought he was a fool; if he wasn’t, he would have sold the horse and lived off the money. But instead, he was a poor woodcutter, an old man still cutting firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. He lived hand to mouth in the misery of poverty. Now he had proven that he was, indeed, a fool.

After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn’t been stolen; he had run away into the forest. Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once again the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. “Old man, you were right and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us.”

The man responded, “Once again, you go too far. Say only that the horse is back. State only that a dozen horses returned with him, but don’t judge. How do you know if this is a blessing or not? You see only a fragment. Unless you know the whole story, how can you judge? You read only one page of a book. Can you judge the whole book? You read only one word of a phrase. Can you understand the entire phrase?

“Life is so vast, yet you judge all of life with one page or one word. All you have is a fragment! Don’t say that this is a blessing. No one knows. I am content with what I know. I am not perturbed by what I don’t.”

“Maybe the old man is right,” they said to one another. So they said little. But down deep, they knew he was wrong. They knew it was a blessing. Twelve wild horses had returned with one horse. With a little bit of work, the animals could be broken and trained and sold for much money.

The old man had a son, an only son. The young man began to break the wild horses. After a few days, he fell from one of the horses and broke both legs. Once again the villagers gathered around the old man and cast their judgments.

“You were right,” they said. “You proved you were right. The dozen horses were not a blessing. They were a curse. Your only son has broken his legs, and now in your old age you have no one to help you. Now you are poorer than ever.”

The old man spoke again. “You people are obsessed with judging. Don’t go so far. Say only that my son broke his legs. Who knows if it is a blessing or a curse? No one knows. We only have a fragment. Life comes in fragments.”

It so happened that a few weeks later the country engaged in war against a neighboring country. All the young men of the village were required to join the army. Only the son of the old man was excluded, because he was injured. Once again the people gathered around the old man, crying and screaming because their sons had been taken. There was little chance that they would return. The enemy was strong, and the war would be a losing struggle. They would never see their sons again.

“You were right, old man,” they wept. “God knows you were right. This proves it. Your son’s accident was a blessing. His legs may be broken, but at least he is with you. Our sons are gone forever.”

The old man spoke again. “It is impossible to talk with you. You always draw conclusions. No one knows. Say only this: Your sons had to go to war, and mine did not. No one knows if it is a blessing or a curse. No one is wise enough to know. Only God knows.”

The old man was right. We only have a fragment. Life’s mishaps and horrors are only a page out of a grand book. We must be slow about drawing conclusions. We must reserve judgment on life’s storms until we know the whole story.

I don’t know where the woodcutter learned his patience. Perhaps from another woodcutter in Galilee. For it was the Carpenter who said it best:

“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.” (Mt. 6:34)

He should know. He is the Author of our story. And he has already written the final chapter.

From In the Eye of the Storm
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 1997) Max Lucado

The Voicemail

I have a voicemail message from Josh on my phone. I have been listening to it for a year and a half now. I love to hear that familiar voice on the other end of the phone and just pretend for a moment that Josh is still here. In the message he says, "I love you" and sounds light hearted and free. I love to hear him say it that way. I always say back, "I love you too, Josh" knowing he is not really on the other end of the line. At the end of the message a Verizon operator says, "If you would like to return this call, press 88". Everytime I hear that I want to press 88 so that I can talk to my baby again. As long as I keep listening to that message and saving it, it stays in my voicemail. I can't listen to it every day because it makes me cry. Sometimes I have a sudden panic attack and think, "Oh my gosh, when was the last time I listened to that message? Has it been longer than 40 days? Did I lose it? I panic until I once again here Josh's sweet voice saying he loves me and then I cry.

Anniversary

Eighteen months today since he left this world.

Love you so much, Josh. Your momma misses you so very, very much!

The Choice

The Choice
by Max Lucado


He placed one scoop of clay upon another until a form lay lifeless on the ground.

All of the Garden’s inhabitants paused to witness the event. Hawks hovered. Giraffes stretched. Trees bowed. Butterflies paused on petals and watched.

“You will love me, nature,” God said. “I made you that way. You will obey me, universe. For you were designed to do so. You will reflect my glory, skies, for that is how you were created. But this one will be like me. This one will be able to choose.”

All were silent as the Creator reached into himself and removed something yet unseen. A seed. “It’s called ‘choice.’ The seed of choice.”

Creation stood in silence and gazed upon the lifeless form.

An angel spoke, “But what if he … ”

“What if he chooses not to love?” the Creator finished. “Come, I will show you.”

Unbound by today, God and the angel walked into the realm of tomorrow.

“There, see the fruit of the seed of choice, both the sweet and the bitter.”

The angel gasped at what he saw. Spontaneous love. Voluntary devotion. Chosen tenderness. Never had he seen anything like these. He felt the love of the Adams. He heard the joy of Eve and her daughters. He saw the food and the burdens shared. He absorbed the kindness and marveled at the warmth.

“Heaven has never seen such beauty, my Lord. Truly, this is your greatest creation.”

“Ah, but you’ve only seen the sweet. Now witness the bitter.”

A stench enveloped the pair. The angel turned in horror and proclaimed, “What is it?”

The Creator spoke only one word: “Selfishness.”

The angel stood speechless as they passed through centuries of repugnance. Never had he seen such filth. Rotten hearts. Ruptured promises. Forgotten loyalties. Children of the creation wandering blindly in lonely labyrinths.

“This is the result of choice?” the angel asked.
“Yes.”
“They will forget you?”
“Yes.”
“They will reject you?”
“Yes.”
“They will never come back?”
“Some will. Most won’t.”
“What will it take to make them listen?”

The Creator walked on in time, further and further into the future, until he stood by a tree. A tree that would be fashioned into a cradle. Even then he could smell the hay that would surround him.

With another step into the future, he paused before another tree. It stood alone, a stubborn ruler of a bald hill. The trunk was thick, and the wood was strong. Soon it would be cut. Soon it would be trimmed. Soon it would be mounted on the stony brow of another hill. And soon he would be hung on it.

He felt the wood rub against a back he did not yet wear.

“Will you go down there?” the angel asked.

“I will.”

“Is there no other way?”

“There is not.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to not plant the seed? Wouldn’t it be easier to not give the choice?”

“It would,” the Creator spoke slowly. “But to remove the choice is to remove the love.”

He looked around the hill and foresaw a scene. Three figures hung on three crosses. Arms spread. Heads fallen forward. They moaned with the wind.

Men clad in soldiers’ garb sat on the ground near the trio. They played games in the dirt and laughed.

Men clad in religion stood off to one side. They smiled. Arrogant, cocky. They had protected God, they thought, by killing this false one.

Women clad in sorrow huddled at the foot of the hill. Speechless. Faces tear streaked. Eyes downward. One put her arm around another and tried to lead her away. She wouldn’t leave. “I will stay,” she said softly. “I will stay.”

All heaven stood to fight. All nature rose to rescue. All eternity poised to protect. But the Creator gave no command.

“It must be done … ,” he said, and withdrew.

But as he stepped back in time, he heard the cry that he would someday scream: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34) He wrenched at tomorrow’s agony.

The angel spoke again. “It would be less painful … ”

The Creator interrupted softly. “But it wouldn’t be love.”

They stepped into the Garden again. The Maker looked earnestly at the clay creation. A monsoon of love swelled up within him. He had died for the creation before he had made him. God’s form bent over the sculptured face and breathed. Dust stirred on the lips of the new one. The chest rose, cracking the red mud. The cheeks fleshened. A finger moved. And an eye opened.

But more incredible than the moving of the flesh was the stirring of the spirit. Those who could see the unseen gasped.

Perhaps it was the wind who said it first. Perhaps what the star saw that moment is what has made it blink ever since. Maybe it was left to an angel to whisper it:

“It looks like … it appears so much like … it is him!”

The angel wasn’t speaking of the face, the features, or the body. He was looking inside—at the soul.

“It’s eternal!” gasped another.

Within the man, God had placed a divine seed. A seed of his self. The God of might had created earth’s mightiest. The Creator had created, not a creature, but another creator. And the One who had chosen to love had created one who could love in return.

Now it’s our choice.

From In the Eye of the Storm
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 1997) Max Lucado

Counting my blessings

I was able to begin counting my blessings again today. It doesn't take the pain away, but makes it bearable. Blessed am I in so many ways including the fact that I had 18 years on this earth to spend with my Joshua. I will also have an eternity to spend with him when I reach heaven. Until then, I will just continue the journey.

A Little Relief

Not really sure why the grief these last few weeks has been so intense but it has been like a heavy blanket weighing down upon me to the point where I coudl hardly function. I struggled with thoughts of whether I was going to stay in this state forever or if I would once again be able to inch my way back to some sort of "new normal". Thankfully, I have begun to see some improvement in the last two days. I'm still struggling but things are a little better. I am hopeful once again. Sometimes just the knowledge that I must bear this grief for the rest of my life is overwhelming. We talked about this in our grief support group this past week. Our counselor reminded us that grief had no time tables and that it doesn't just "get better" at the one year anniversary, or the two year anniversary. Sometimes people still suffer intense grief even after a lifetime of living with the loss. I think part of my depression the past few weeks has been that I just became so tired of the battle that I just couldn't imagine how I could continue on this way indefinitely. Grieving is such hard work and leaves one feeling fatigued. Then when life keeps throwing things at you to deal with, it just becomes almost unbearable at times.

Somewhere in the midst of the pain, the grief, the suffering there is always the Hope that I cling to. The realization that in spite of everything here on this earth that someday I will be with Josh in a place where there is no more suffering or pain. That Hope is what I cling to.

Patchwork of Emotions

The more precious and beautiful the day, the more poignant the grief. It's like a patchwork of beautiful moments that are broken by lines of grief. Yesterday was so hard! How I loved having my Alissa, Kristin and Mikey here to celebrate Alissa's birthday but the pain was so sharp I could hardly keep the smile on my face. In fact, when Alissa left, I broke down and cried in front of her. I didn't want to but could not help myself.

Not only was there the tremendous pain of knowing that Josh was not here to celebrate Alissa's 21st birthday, it was the pain of knowing this was the first birthday that Alissa is celebrating without her cousin, Angela. They always celebrated this day together. I know that missing the two people who were the most important people her age in her life made the day bitter sweet for my dear girl. I know it did for me. Angela's mom bravely came to the birthday meal. I know it was hard on her to be here with us and to know that Alissa wanted her here because by having her with us, we had part of Angela that we could see and touch here with us. As mothers, a part of our spirit goes on to be with our child and a part of them remains in us. Broken we will be until that moment we are reunited for eternity.

Alissa's 21'st birthday without Josh & Angela

Today we celebrated Alissa's 21st birthday, although her actual birthday is tomorrow. Alissa and Angela always celebrated in some way together on their birthdays and of course, Alissa and Josh were inseperable. So, this milestone birthday was especially hard on all of us because I know we were all thinking about Josh and Angela who are no longer with us. The tears have flown freely today for me as I rejoice in the beauty of my precious daughter and all she means to me and at the same time mourn for my son, Josh, who is no longer with us.

I hurt for myself but I hurt for Alissa. She and Josh, only 16 months apart in age, were best friends. Now Alissa calls me and says how she hates to be alone. She always had Josh and now he is gone. And Angela and Alissa were so much alike they could have been twins in so many ways. They were the best of friends. It just doesn't seem fair that my baby girl had to lose the two people that were the most important in her life.

I have to believe that Josh and Angela are celebrating in heaven in honor of Alissa's birthday.

Matthew West/Save a Place for Me Lyrics:

Don't be mad if I cry
It just hurts so bad sometimes
'Cause everyday it's sinking in
And I have to say goodbye all over again
You know I bet it feels good to have the weight of this world off your shoulders now
I'm dreaming of the day when I'm finally there with you

Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon

I have asked the question why
But I guess the answer's for another time
So instead I'll pray with every tear
And be thankful for the time I had you here
And I wanna live my life just like you did
Make the most of my time just like you did
And I wanna make my home up in the sky
Just like you did
Oh, but until I get there
Until I get there

Never Forget

Do they realize that when they post pictures on Face Book that I can't help but see them? Do they care? Do they even remember that the one they called "friend" is gone? Do they forget?

The addiction they have to the bottle either fueled the personal anger and lack of self control or gave aid to their nonchalant attitude about my precious son's life the night they killed him. Yes, I blame them all. Everyone in that house at the time is held accountable by God for their actions with no excuses. The fact that some of them have pictures posted on public forums showing the dazed look of drunken stupor as the normal look on their face angers me to no end. Part of me pities them for not being able to pull themselves out of this addiction and the other part of me rages that they stil let alchohol control their lives.

And the pictures of them playing in their little "rock band" fill me with so much hurt and anger that hot, painful tears just stream from my eyes and my heart feels as if it will stop completely. There they stand with smirks and smiles on their faces having what looks like a good time. Everyone of them are enjoying the "lights" and attention that is being shed on them as is evident by all the photos. "Amazing", I think to myself. They can stand there 17 months after Josh's death.............after two of those band members killed my son......one of them by actually going in the other room, loading the gun with three bullets, bringing the weapon back intentionally to the room where Josh was and killing him either by his own hand (as I believe happened) or by his taunting and misleading Josh whom I am sure thought the weapon was empty when Jake new better. So, there they stand enjoying their night out, playing music, laughing, smiling, at least one with that glassy look to his eyes as if my son never existed.

Perhaps they are tortured when the music stops and they are no longer in the lime light of their adoring crowd? Perhaps the memories of what happened that night haunt them. I don't know. But, to a grieving mother those pictures on FB are a mockery and a slap in the face.

Nightmares

More mornings than not this week I have awakened early to a nightmare. The dreams either involve Josh or Angela and there is always some sort of a struggle to keep them from harm but when I wake, I am reminded they are already gone.

Unbearable

The pain has been unbearable these past few weeks and I really can't figure out why. I had a break through there for a while and thought I was doing so much better but here I am wondering again how I am ever going to make it. I will. This I know. One step at a time....one breath at a time. Perhaps, these feelings are so intense because I am finally beginning to "wake up" enough to realize just how much of life is passing me by. I want to be able to reach out and take a hold of life once again.........the desire is there............to live life to the fullest. However, I am not able to get there. I just can't get past the grief. I feel like I am on a treadmill, working so hard just to keep up but getting no where. It scares me to think I might be in this place forever..................this place of just hanging on.

Tomorrow we are celebrating Alissa's 21st birthday. I want to be able to be happy but all I can do is think about the fact that Josh is not going to be here. He should be here. I should have both of my children with me. Instead, I will try to celebrate the life of my precious daughter while I mourn the death of my precious son. I never dreamed life could be this hard. Nothing that I have ever gone through could have prepared me for this.

A Small Light

For almost a year and a half I have not been able to read anything for pleasure. I read the Bible for comfort, I skim articles on the internet about farming but to pick up a book and read it for pleasure, I have not been able to do. I use to love to read but the words just jumble in my mind and make no sense. I can't pay attention and lose interest. I have not even had the desire to read. Today, I went to the store and I found myself in the book aisle. I picked up several books and read the back. They looked interesting to me. I wanted to read them. I don't know if I will be able to sit down and read them yet, but it was a glimmer of hope to me that someday I may actually find joy in reading again. Perhaps one of the things I enjoyed in the past will become part of my new normal.

My reality and dealing with depression

Last night I met with my grief support group. I was desperate to go feeling like I had reached the end of my rope and not knowing how to even keep going emotionally. It is strange that I would be at this point now. I have felt particularly low in the past 17 months with certain times being worse than others. However, I have never been this low. As I told my friends in my group, "I had reached the point where I know that this is my reality: Josh is never coming back and if this is as good as it gets on this grief journey, then it's not good enough!"
There are days when I feel that missing my son and the grief that I am enduring is simply sucking the very life out of me! I have reached a point where I have begun to wonder if I am dealing with grief or if the grief has turned into depression. I have questioned what the difference is between the two?

Our counselor was very thoughtful and helpful and it does seem that the depression that I am feeling is not what might be termed a "clinical" depression but rather a deep sadness from losing my Josh. While we don't know how long this stage of grief might last, it is comforting to realize that it too is just part of the journey and that somehow, I will make it through.

Grief or Depression

Is it possible to know where grief ends and depression begins? There is such a fine line.

Photos

The Miracle of the Carpenter

The Miracle of the Carpenter
by Max Lucado


Loretto Chapel took five years to complete. Modeled after the Sainte-Chapelle in Paris, its delicate sanctuary contains an altar, a rose window, and a choir loft.

The choir loft is the reason for wonder.

Were you to stand in the newly built chapel in 1878, you might see the Sisters of Loretto looking forlornly at the balcony. Everything else was complete: the doors had been hung, the pews had been placed, the floor had been laid. Everything was finished. Even the choir loft. Except for one thing. No stairs.

The chapel was too small to accommodate a conventional stairway. The best builders and designers in the region shook their heads when consulted. “Impossible,” they murmured. There simply wasn’t enough room. A ladder would serve the purpose, but mar the ambiance.

The Sisters of Loretto, whose determination had led them from Kentucky to Santa Fe, now faced a challenge greater than their journey: a stairway that couldn’t be built.

What they had dreamed of and what they could do were separated by fifteen impossible feet.

So what did they do? The only thing they could do. They ascended the mountain. Not the high mountains near Santa Fe. No, they climbed even higher. They climbed the same mountain that Jesus climbed 1,800 years earlier in Bethsaida. They climbed the mountain of prayer.

As the story goes, the nuns prayed for nine days. On the last day of the novena, a Mexican carpenter with a beard and a wind-burned face appeared at the convent. He explained that he had heard they needed a stairway to a chapel loft. He thought he could help.

The mother superior had nothing to lose, so she gave him permission.

He went to work with crude tools, painstaking patience, and uncanny skill. For eight months he worked.

One morning the Sisters of Loretto entered the chapel to find their prayers had been answered. A masterpiece of carpentry spiraled from the floor to the loft. Two complete three-hundred-sixty-degree turns. Thirty-three steps held together with wooden pegs and no central support. The wood is said to be a variety of hard fir, one nonexistent in New Mexico!

When the sisters turned to thank the craftsman, he was gone. He was never seen again. He never asked for money. He never asked for praise. He was a simple carpenter who did what no one else could do so singers could enter a choir loft and sing.

See the stairway for yourself, if you like. Journey into the land of Enchantment. Step into this chapel of amazement and witness the fruit of prayer.

Or, if you prefer, talk to the Master Carpenter yourself. He has already performed one impossible feat in your world. He, like the Santa Fe carpenter, built a stairway no one else could build. He, like the nameless craftsman, used material from another place. He, like the visitor to Loretto, came to span the gap between where you are and where you long to be.

Each year of his life is a step. Thirty-three paces. Each step of the stair is an answered prayer. He built it so you can climb it.

And sing.

I think I've found the "New Normal"

The realization hit me recently that I have reached the "new normal". About two months ago I actually began to "function" again to almost full capacity. I don't know that I will ever again be able to throw myself into life and work the way I did before Josh died. I have, however, found a slower, steady pace...............one that does not involve as many dreams of a beautiful future (on this earth) and one that recognizes that nothing in this world is permanent. With this new normal, so many things that seemed to matter before, just don't matter anymore. This new normal brings with it the realization that this hurt in my heart is just not going to lesson. In some ways, yes, it's true, I learn how to deal with it and grow stronger. Still, I find myself suddenly panic at times and cry out, "This just can't be real. Josh can't really be gone." Yet, I know he is and I must deal with the loss because I have no other choice. It's really very unfair but what sense would there be in fighting it? It's a fact whether it's fair or not and I have no choice but to deal with it. The reality that everything I love can be taken from me in an instant causes me to wonder what is going to be next. The frustration in knowing that nothing I hold dear is immune from suddenly being snatched from my life causes me to sometimes view life as futile. Yet, my heart filled with love for those who remain within reach of my touch and voice keeps me from giving into despair and causes me to keep trying. My memories of my precious son and the desire to make him proud and be the strong mother he would want me to be, gives me just enough strength to go on. This new normal is just so hard.

17 Months

Seventeen months today since Josh left this world. I cried a lot of tears last night and today.

I explained in my grief support group tonight that some folks think that grief is something that can just be "set aside" and then "picked back up" from time to time. The truth is that grief is now a part of me. Just as I could not possibly cut off an arm or a leg, I can't just cut off the grief. For the grief is me. It is a part of the whole. To accept me, one has to accept the grief that I own.

Mid Month Ramblings

I knew this would be a hard day. It always is. You know............the day before the monthly anniversary of Josh's death. Try as I might I still can't ignore it. It's there looming in the back of my mind always creating a darkness over those days in the middle of the month until I finally reach the 16th. Funny thing is, the 16th brings tremendous amounts of sadness but also brings a sense of relief. I've made it through one more month. Tomorrow will mark the 17th month anniversary of Josh's death. In case you think I am obssesive about the date, I might point out that I know of those who have lost loved ones who count the days...........not months, not years but days. They know exactly how many days it has been since their loved one died.

I do feel a great sense of relief at having separated my two blogs and feeling like I can come to this blog and share my feelings. It's funny that I felt so stifled on the other blog because I did not want folks to think that I was constantly down but also needed an outlet to express how I am feeling. Grief is a part of me and to deny it is to deny who I am. I don't think the sadness ever goes away but it becomes a part of who we are and somehow, I think we have to learn to make friends with it. To always be "fighting" it, avoiding it, denying it, or masking it does nothing to deal with it. I think acceptance that the grief is part of me............it is who I am..............gives me the ability to embrace the rest of my life with all the passion that I can possible muster. No longer does anything really matter in this life except those things that are of eternal importance and to me that boils down to relationships.

Update on my Journey

Recently, I have found myself less and less willing to post about my grief journey. I am not sure exactly why. The pain is still there just as intensely. As someone said to me, "The pain does not go away, but we get stronger and more able to deal with it." I still cry when I least at expect it.....................and when I do expect it. I still can't figure out how I am suppose to get through life without the child to whom I gave birth. However, I know that each day I will find the strength I need from the One who never leaves or forsakes us. I know that I will complete this journey some day and see Joshua again.

Perhaps, we finally get to a point in our grief where we realize that the rest of the world is ready for us to "move on" because our pain is beginning to make them feel uncomfortable. That's ok. Perhaps that is what gives us the ability to grasp the reality of what our life has become and make the best of it. Joshua is never out of my thoughts and always in my heart. I am just learning to talk about him without crying (so much) in public and I save the tears for when I am alone.

The grief support group has been a big help to me. In our small group, it's ok to let those tears out and to talk about all of the emotions associated with our grief. Most recently we talked about anger associated with grief. I didn't want to address the anger because I have worked very hard to not be angry and to be forgiving and loving to those I needed to show grace.

For that one night I faced the anger I didn't even realize I had, and expressed it verbally. I have never been angry at God. I know that He is a God of love and that He does not inflict evil upon His children. Rather, I believe evil is a result of this fallen world in which we live. I, however, do have anger towards those folks responsible directly and indirectly for my son's death but was unable to admit that to myself until recently. Even though I pray for them and want them to find direction in their lives and become better people, I have anger over what they did to my precious son.

I will admit, when asked to share what I was angry about, I thought it was a bunch of "hog wash" because what was that going to do? It wasn't going to change anything. But much to my surprise, it did change something. It changed me. It took that place where all that ugliness has been brewing in my heart and cleaned it out. Then I had a choice. I could let all that ugliness slowly seep back in, or, I could fill it with something good. By being able to express the pain in detail, in person and find support and acceptance within the group it left a place in my heart that I could fill with happiness and laughter once again.

Those feelings of anger and disappointment will return. I will have to deal with them again. It's part of life. In the mean time, I am truly learning to live more in spite of my grief. My life is becoming more productive again and my thought process more clear. I don't believe I will ever be the same as I was before Joshua died. How could I? But just as someone who loses the capability to walk and has to learn again step by step, I am learning slowly how to live again. It is a long, painful journey but I know that Joshua would want me to make the best of it. I know that he would want me to be happy. I find myself more sensitive to the things that he was sensitive to and try to honor him in that way. He loved family, peace, animals and gave sacrificially to others who were in need. I find myself drawn to those ideals even more than I ever was, knowing that by promoting them, a part of Josh lives on through me. I hope that when this life is over that this grief journey has made me a better person and that I have truly earned that smile that awaits me in Heaven both from my Heavenly Father and from my precious son.

More Homework

That grief support group I mentioned...............it meets tomorrow.

Every other Tuesday, we get together and talk. There are seven of us in the group plus the counsellor. Sometimes there are fewer because someone in the group has other obligations or someone just doesn't feel like coming. We all understand when someone just doesn't feel like coming.

We have homework this week. I put it off to the last minute. I have had two weeks to do the homework, but have put it off, and tomorrow is the big day.

Seems we are suppose to write out what we are angry about. "Oh, we are not angry" we all proclaim. It's not right to be angry even when it's associated with grief and loss, right? So, our wise counsellor says, "Well, write about the things are are disappointed about." Ah, we all can write about that. We all have disappointments associated with our grief, right?

So, I began writing. Bringing up all those negative emotions and putting them down on paper is exhausting. Not sure how it's all going to turn out because I am too tired to finish it tonight. I will have to find time to finish it tomorrow.

Grieving is such hard work.

Homework

At our grief support group last week we were suppose to take home a picture of a flower and on each of the petals write something that we lost when we lost our loved ones.

I remember getting the paper but don't have a clue what happened to it and never thought of it again. I really struggle with remembering and concentration issues.

So Cynthia, the counselor, passed the paper out to me again this week.

I just sat down and started it but when I looked at it and the instructions were to write down what we lost on each petal my first thought was to just put down "Everything".

But, the second paper she gave us this week was another flower and we were to write on it what we have left. So, I did that one first because it's easier for me to focus on the good.

Here is what I wrote:

God/Faith
Alissa
Mike
Mikey and Kristin
Family
Friends
Memories
My animals
Writing, journaling, blogging
Nature's beauty
Love

I am sure I can think of many more but those were the ones that just popped into my head as I began this assignment.

Healing From Loss

Taken from the book A Time to Mourn, A Time to Dance:

"There is no straight line of healing from loss. In fact, there are multiple routes, including dead ends and blind spots. There are detours that cause us to change direction, often leaving us feeling lost and confused. Some potential detours can take us through shock, denial, and disbelief. Others may draw us into paths of anger, depression and despair." (Page 16)

How to Heal includes:

* Having the Experience. This is the entry point.

* Owning the Experience as a loss. This means not denying it, pretending it doesn't hurt, or minimizing it's importance.

* Willingness and readiness to walk the path of healing. The timing of healing is an individual thing.

* Hurting. There is no quick fix and no path that allows us to avoid the pain. We must face the pain and experience it.

* Expressing and not repressing the hurt. That means finding a support system or a friend who is willing to let us experience and share our feelings.

* Assessing and reevaluating ourselves and the situation. It may seem to delay our progress, but it's a necessary part of healing. Early grief it feels like we will never survive long enough to find the end of the maze.

* Learning to live with a redefinition of self. This final step requires finding ways to reinvest our emotional energy, rather han having all of our energy stuck in re-experiencing the loss. This takes place slowly over time. Expect set backs.