A Sweet Reunion, Saying Good Bye To Grandma Joan

I didn't know her well. Only through birthday parties,  drop off or pick ups during custody exchanges. I only knew her through visiting at the grocery store or the Thrift shop. I knew her smile and her love for Chelsea and her infatuation with Christiana; the mini Chelsea. I knew her caring nature in recognizing Elijah's desire to enter the military and the beautiful card and gift she sent for his graduation. One I had to take care of after he had been called home. I know of her intent to hold my hand when my son was called home so suddenly. She too, no stranger to the loss of a child. Today we will celebrate her life; Chelsea's Grandmother. 

A woman who I knew only as an acquaintance. 

Yet whom my step daughter loved. Watching the hurt and pain in your children is hard.

 Repeated jabs to Chelsea's young life.

 A brother torn from her. Her beloved father in a battle for his life. And now this.

Yet in the midst of all the sadness and heartache. 

God chose to send life. 

Before the dawn of time he called that little Lilah Rose into being. 

Oh how He knew we would all need life. 

Baby smiles and coo's. 

Snuggles and distraction. 

And it is this New Life we are called into living;

2 Corinthians 5:17
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: 
The old has gone, the new is here!

living as a child wrapped in a Father's loving arms. 

It is in knowing you are loved beyond anything this world has to offer. 

There is no physical relationship on this earth, no matter how wonderful,

 that can match the Savior's love for us. 

It is this love that spurs us on to make a difference in this world.

 To change one person at a time with the love offered so freely.
To repent and turn from our old ways, to the new and glorious.

Grandma Joan, you will be missed greatly.
Your wit and smile will be remembered.
And I can only think how sweet your reunion with your precious Anna must have been.
Oh what joy. 

Revelation 21:4
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death' or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."

Grace That Visits Your Door, When Your Heart Is Breaking On Christmas Day

I don't want to say we made it through the day. 

But we did. 

How do you celebrate Christmas with your 17 year old son buried deep beneath the winter snow?

How do you breathe in and out missing a part of you?

How do you look at stockings and open presents;

 when your heart is shattered into a millions fragments. 

My boy is gone. And I miss him so much. 

But he has gone where Angels trod.

The same Angels that proclaimed the birth of the Most High, 

The same Angels that declared that He is Risen. 

His work finished, here on this earth. 

And no matter how I want to change that.

 I can't. 

So on Christmas morning we do what we know. 

We head to the manger, while the stars still shine and all is still. 

Before the presents are opened;

 we gather to celebrate the only gift that really matters. 

Our hearts are full.

We arrive home to open presents and finish chores.

And then this family heads to the movies. 

Yes.

On Christmas Day. 

We pack up. 

We do something we rarely do. 

And it was wonderful.

"Saving Mr. Banks", is fabulous movie. It is well done. 

I don't know why it's PG 13.

 It was the perfect movie for Christmas Day. 

Themes of redemption and not letting your past drive you down, but up to something meaningful. 

It was full of hope. 

From there our day continued to be memorable. 

We headed to the airport to pick up a dear cousin. 

Once upon a time ago, I spent all my Christmases with this cousin and his family; his brother too lies deep in the earth. 

Memories swirled in my head thinking back to those times. 

Presents, and happy child glow.

 Music. Always music. 

From the airport we return home to find that the sweetest of step daughter's 

and her family have come a day early. 

They too finding this day out of sorts.

I hold that precious baby.

I haven't finished wrapping or cleaned or made any preparations.

I thought I had another day. 

But it doesn't matter. 

Because sometimes the greatest gifts can't be bought. 

And sometimes God blessings come so unexpected. 

 Childhood memories dance through my head and the treasure of a cousin here in town are what I think about as the day closes on Christmas 2013.

I think about the grace that has visited this farmhouse today.

When it was least expected. 

Hope, Where Do You FInd It?. . . .Day #3 of Thankfulness

I love to hear the rain on the tin roof. 

There is something so soothing.

I have fond memories of sitting with Chelsea on the porch. 

Reading stories, listening to the summer storms.

One night, when she was little, we slept outside, on the porch. 

It was so much fun.

It was so cold in the morning.

Her daddy had headed to the barn, 

so it was just the two of us to keep warm.

All the kids love the rain on the roof. 

When I was pregnant with Eleanor; Gary, Elijah and Cedric carried the
TV and VCR up to the hay mow and we watched a movie up there.
This was before flat screens.
It was raining. 

The smell of the hay and being all together was comforting.

Those were days of peace. 

Untold joy.

And God is still the same God he was then; in those wonderful, warm moments. 

He is still the same God in these cold and painful times. 

He is working out his plan in us.

    Habakkuk 3:17-19

Though the fig tree does not bud

and there are no grapes on the vines,

though the olive crop fails

    and the fields produce no food,

though there are no sheep in the pen

    and no cattle in the stalls,

 

yet I will rejoice in the Lord,

    I will be joyful in God my Savior.

The Sovereign Lord is my strength;

    he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,

    he enables me to tread on the heights.

We need to be ready and aware of His working,

There is much Grace poured out for me. 

I am a fool if I do not have eyes to see.

I can not make my heart respond, but my mind knows. 

In time my heart will feel again.
 For now I lean on what I know.

Day #3 of Thankfulness;
I am thankful for Chelsea:

For entering my life in a different way than the other kids

For teaching me how to farm
and fill a diaper bag

For the way she giggles with her eyes
For sucking her tongue and playing with our ears
For messes she and Mal made. . .everywhere
For the hundred times a day she would change her clothes
for the joy of watching her grow

For her quiet ways, so like her father

For her creativity
For her independence
For her honesty
For her soft, inner strength
For babysitting while skyping 250 miles away
For giving us the gift of a grandchild
For her love for her husband
For the way she loves her daddy
For the lessons she has taught me over the years about grace

Psalm 100:4
Enter his gates with thanksgiving
    and his courts with praise;
    give thanks to him and praise his name.

"There is no one like our God.

For greater things are yet to come

And greater things are still to be done. . .in this city."

He is the hope to the hopeless.

And as we struggle through these days;
as we learn to live differently

we Hope. . .not as this world. . .

but with the hope that there will be a time when all things are set straight. 

Jesus is coming back.

He is our Comforter

He will wipe away all our tears. . .

And there are greater things to come. 

With Whom do I Wrestle?

My heart is wounded.

I am tired. 

This path is wrought with grief and pain.

The only way out is through. 

One needs to wrestle through the memories.

Through the future that will never be;

snatched away.

I've been robbed. 

Robbed of graduation from Marine Corps Boot Camp, 

robbed of the future of our son. 

And it hurts.

I can't change it. 

No matter the longing, it will never be. 

Yet my wounded heart is held in the palm 

of the hand of the One who created us. 

And as I wrestle each day with the reality of never hearing 

Elijah's voice again, never watching where his future leads. 

I am never, for a moment, outside the grasp of God. 

Psalm 139:10

even there your hand shall lead me,
    and your right hand shall hold me.

I wrestle with the events of the accident. 

Oh how a mama's heart hurts to think about her boy. 

Could God have stopped it?

Did He allow it?

Why me? 

I already have given my heart to Him. 

He didn't need to get my attention. 

He has had it for years.

What was the purpose in this agony?  

These things I will never know this side of eternity.  

I give thanks again for a community that is unrelenting in their love for us. 

For friends that show up when I am a tearful mess. 

For a cousin that listens.

For a friend that sheds tears with me as I pour out my heart to her. 

For God's Word. 

It is comforting.

It is honest.

And it is Truth for a hurting soul.

I can't sort this out. 

I can't make it make sense. 

I don't know who to wrestle with. 

The God of the universe called Elijah home. 

And all the pleading and praying is not going to change it. 

I want to know where to go from here. 

I want to see how to live. 

For now, that looks like one step in front of the other. 

Breathing in and out. 

Eyes lifted to the sky.

Hands open in surrender. 

It is thanking for the 17 years we did have.

For first steps, birthdays, learning to ride a bike, snuggles and reading, laughter and discussions. 

Graduation and dreams.

Hugs and a kiss before he left. 

All gifts given. 

We are awaiting the call from Chelsea sharing new life. 

That her precious Lilah has arrived. 

And that is hope. 

Hebrews 11:1

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and

 assurance about what we do not see.

We step out in hope. It is uncharted waters.

It is unknown.

It is a battle to strive to seek. 

But God will walk with us every step of the way. 

Even when we don't feel it.

Mostly when we don't feel it. 

He is there. 

And He is good. 

And He will restore our joy.

He will lead us through this Valley of the shadow of death. 

The Honor of being the Ugly Step Mom. . .who came up with that term anyway?

Today she turns 26.

She came into my world in a different way. 

Her blue eyes and precious smile captivated me right away.

Her long blonde hair flowing in the breeze.

Her hand tucked snugly into mine.

Bedtime stories and afternoon walks.

These stole my heart. 

Along with the father who loved her so. 

Years of Field Hockey games, homework, playdates,
 road trips to see her in college; all done now.

That precious young child has grown into a beautiful woman.

All the girls.

 And then a wonderful young man stole her heart.

But never from her daddy.

And the 2 became one.

On the farm of her birth.

And in God's precious mercy while we mourn the loss of one called home;
we also celebrate the coming of new life.

So happy Birthday Chelsea Davis Brittain.
I may only hold the title of ugly step-mom;
but it's been an honor and one of my greatest joys.

Psalm 127:3
Children are a gift from the Lord;
    they are a reward from him.