I Can Scarcely Breath This Christmas Morning

Hush. 

I hear the whisper. 

Hush. 

He calms my aching soul. 

The empty stocking. 

My nephews children without their dad. 

My sister in law with out her son. 

The news of another loss of a dad so loved in this community. 

I can scarcely breathe this Christmas morning. 

I hear the whisper as I drive to the barn. 

Hush my child. 

The strains of a loved Christmas Carol play,

Sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation;
O sing, all ye citizens of heaven above!
Glory to God, all glory in the highest;

Sing all ye citizens of Heaven above 

The words strike me. 

We are citizens of heaven. 

EVEN WHILE WE DWELL HERE! 

Our citizenship is there. 

The freshness of these words pour over me. 

The glory is given even in the pain. 

Even in the heartache. 

He is there. 

Yea, Lord, we greet Thee, born this happy morning;
Jesus, to Thee be glory given;
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing.

The Word of the Father. 

Now in flesh appearing.

John 1

 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4 In him was life,[a] and the life was the light of men. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Oh the truth in these verses. 

The simple promise. 

God became flesh. 

The Incarnate.

He came. 

So that we may have life. 

The citizenship already prepared. 

That passport already stamped. 

Entry never denied. 

You are welcome. 

Preparations are made for your arrival. 

This drive to the barn has been a holy journey. 

The air crisp. 

I bring coffee and treats to my farmer and farm boy. 

Even on the holiest of mornings the cows need attention. 

And this morning there are breakdowns and equipment working. 

My farmers take it in stride. 

The farm boy stands watch (Or sits) over the motor. 

Spinning the gear to make it continue on. 

With out it the milking machines can not work. 

But it's Christmas. 

So they do what they do best. 

Improvise. 

We're heading to church in a few minutes. 

To the manger. 

An act. 

A journey. 

On this holiest of mornings. 

When my soul faltered. 

When my grief rose up. 

We're purposefully heading to the manger. 

Yea, Lord, we greet Thee, born this happy morning;
Jesus, to Thee be glory given;
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing.

The Piano Guys

O Come, O Come Emmanuel

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

The Richness of Seeing Day #5 of Thankfulness

The farm boy headed to bible study. 

The dancer to class. 

My farmer was still caring for his ladies. 

So the youngest and I found we were alone. 

She had been up since 3:30 a.m. 

She wanted to snuggle. 

Such a rare gift. 

Knowing I love fixer, upper shows,

she put on Netflix to the perfect choice. 

One that the older daughter had shared  about on my wall just this day. 

We snuggled.

We watched. 

Just the two of us. 

While this journey of children being in

 heaven and growing up and moving on is rough. 

It's these moments that we need to cherish. 

~30 Days of Thankfulness~

I am thankful for:

Sunshine and warm days in November

A productive day of school

Washing windows

(yes! I was able to get one of the 40 done!)

A spontaneous visit with a friend

(poor girl had a double root canal!)

dinner already prepared 

a niece who will come and sit with me and eat her lunch

A daughter, even though far away, still thinks of her mama

Care packages sent

the slow pace of an evening to snuggle with the youngest

lessons I am learning in a quiet home 

that used to burst at the seam with children

eyes that see the beauty: hidden, waiting to be seen

hard discussions choosing church leadership

trusting when there is no other way

Elijah's friends who send me a note when I most need it

learning how to dance in the rain

When we intentionally step into gratitude our eyes are opened. 

We see glimpses of grace we never knew before. 

Won't you join us? 

Ephesians 1:8

I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people

He is Able

I fold laundry and I pray. 

I pray over each sweet piece of fabric. 

Each shirt, pair of pants. 

I hold them close. 

I pray for this college girl who is home. 

Home to celebrate the life of her cousin. 

Taken too soon;

in our eyes. 

This college girl who has lost a brother too. 

And I make piles. 

Neat piles. 

I love to fold laundry. 

I love the smell. 

Shirts together. 

Pants together. 

Unmentionables together. 

Neat piles. 

Clean. 

Orderly. 

But I can't ever seem to to get the piles to their respective owners. 

Ever. 

Piles begat piles. 

And the orderly becomes chaos. 

Why is that? 

Why can't it ever be finished. 

It seems to be my albatross.

Is it that way with your faith. 

Are you able to get to a certain point. . .

And then all unravels. 

Doubt begats doubt. 

Am I really worthy enough? 

Can God really love me enough?

Do I really believe? 

And what do I really believe? 

As I put away the laundry and continue the cycle. 

I ponder these things. 

I pray for the ache in our hearts. 

I pray for the memories that were. . .

and those that will never be. 

I take the ache piled upon ache and lay it at the foot of the cross. 

I am not able to handle this alone. 

The weight too grand. 

As I put each pile away. 

I imagine physically handing my cares to God. 

I tuck them into the drawers. 

He is able. 

He is more than able. 

Ephesians 3:20

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,

Once again. 

None of this caught God by surprise. 

He is walking this journey with us. 

He will receive the glory and honor. 

His name will be praised. 

We will continue to stand on the rock that never moves. 

We will bend our knees and lift our hands high. 

2 Corninthians 4:8-9

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

The Icy Fear That Can Grip So Suddenly

Will this ever be easy? 

Will waiting for the children to come home ever feel safe again? 

I hold my breath.

I feel tense. 

My spirit unsettled. 

Waiting. 

For the axe to drop. 

Anticipating the negative. 

Icy cold fear. 

It creeps in. 

Slowly. 

While you're not aware. 

It is there. 

Gripping. 

Choking. 

The dawn will come and it will be 23 months 

since my boy walked the face of this earth. 

23 months since I have felt normal,

It has been 23 months of putting one foot in front of the other. 

Willing myself to move forward.
Trusting in the goodness of God. 

Remembering His promises. 

Isaiah 41:10

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Resting in His word. 

But tonight the icy, cold fear grips tightly. 

There are 2 children out. 

And I fear. 

The darkness real. 

I am powerless. 

Tears well. 

Deep longing and desire to see my son fill my soul. 

Bitterness lies just beneath the surface. 

Tools of the enemy. 

I dig deep. 

Psalm 27:1

The LORD is my light and my salvation-- whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life-- of whom shall I be afraid?

My God will supply all our needs. 

Philippians 4:19

And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.

Needs that He knows better than I do. 

Needs that I haven't even thought of. 

He will provide. 

He will supply. 

I just need to trust. 

To let go. 

To surrender. 

And this I find hard to do. 

I Peter 1:6-9

 In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

My heart yearns for Elijah. 

I long to be his mom. 

I long for things that are hidden deep in my heart. 

Longings that will never, ever be satisfied this side of heaven. 

The pain is there to stay. 

The deep ache forever there. 

My heart will forever be broken. 

A piece of it always missing. 

But God will fill the ache. 

He will pour His Spirit in until I am over flowing with all that He has. 

He will turn my mourning into dancing. 

He is the God who majors in restoration and regeneration. 

I can not see what God is doing now. 

I may not even be able to understand. 

But I can trust and rest in the promises given so long ago. 

The icy fear has dissipated some. 

As I wait I will practice trust. 

I will hand over each of my worries, each of my fears until I am empty. 

Naming them one by one. 

Because even in death. 

God is there. 

In the emptiness, He can do His greatest work. 

He alone will satisfy. 

Psalm 107:9

for he satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things.

As the day dawns and 23 months go by,

 I will place my feet on the ground that will never be shaken. 

My hope is placed with the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. 

I will melt the icy fear with power and might of a Holy God. 

Ephesians 3:20

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine,

 according to his power that is at work within us,

Grief Is Work And It Takes Time

Some days the breathing is hard. 

As if I take a breath and all will spill over. 

The breath that will split the scar. 

The ache that lies just beneath the surface. 

Day after day. 

The missing. 

The longing. 

One more word. 

One more hug. 

A future. 

Where would he be right now? 

How is he feeling? 
I want to be numb. 
I don't want to feel the pain. 
It sears and burns. 

This thought line is in vain. 

It leaves an emptiness that can never be filled. 

These desires unfulfilled; this side of eternity. 
The focus of my thoughts in need of a shift. 
My downward glance forced to move. 
Steps.

Steps to the cross. 

Step by aching step. 
Release. 

The relentless giving over that brings the peace. 

The turning from the earthly grit to look upon the heavenly throne. 

Because there. . .

There in lies the hope. 

The majesty. 

The purpose. 

We are here. 

For a reason. 

We were created. 
By His hands. 

For His purposes. 

No matter how the agony of this world settles in; there is always hope. 

Hope in Christ. 

Hope in more than I can fathom.

As the days continue their march. 

As the waves of grief surface and catch me off guard, I turn. 

I reach and dig for the truth. 

The truth that sets us free. 

The truth that reminds me I am His. 

He will never leave me nor forsake me. 

No matter how the pain cripples. 

He is stronger. 

While I continue to grapple with the unknown. 

The future with out my son. 

I know that my Redeemer has ransomed my soul. 

I have been bought with a price and He will never let me go. 

It's been 21 months since I have seen this child of mine. 

Ah, since I have gazed into those baby blues. 
How I long to hear his voice. 
My mama's heart torn forever.
Yet there is a promise. 
Before the foundation of time. 

This is not our home. 

We are strangers passing through. 

John 14:1-2
Jesus said, "Let not your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also."

God is actively preparing a place for us. 
Better than we can ever imagine. 
Our focus and our hope remains there. 
Our work here to continue to share God's message. 
To spread his love. 
To share and live in truth. 
To give hope to the weary travelers. 
As Spring begins, new buds begin to show. 
The old is cast off. 

Isaiah 43:19
See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

I am waiting to see what God will do. 
I am open to his leading. 
I want to know how he will take this broken hearted mama and use this pain for his glory. 
But I need to be open and ready. 
If I am stuck in the grief and glorifying the pain, I won't have eyes to see. 
This is my work. 
May the work you need to do in your soul be wrapped in the glory of the Holy One. 
May He guide each of your steps as you hold tightly to the promises given. 

David Crowder
I Am

. . .Never let go 
never leave my side. 
I Am holding on to you.
I Am holding on to you
In the middle of the storm 
I am holding on
I Am.

I Said, "Yes" To Writing On The Walls

I said it sort of jokingly. 

I didn't think anything of it. 

We could write our gratitude on the wall.

We are going to paint in here someday. 

(It hasn't been painted since 1989. . ."ain't nobody got time for that")

The walls are filthy and stained with hand prints. 

Drawings from the kids and those infamous height marks. 

A legacy of Elijah on the wall. 

A tangible record of his exsistance here. 

A reminder. 

So, we clean up from physical nourishment 
and the Ancient Word. 
My farmer hesitates before he leaves. 
It is not until he is gone that I see what he has done. 

He took that marker and he penned his thoughts. 
The start of a day of thankfulness. 
The other kids joined in. 
That older farm girl had to have a title and have it make sense. 
We hope family and friends will join in with us. 
We don't know how to walk this road. 
Everything we know is changed;
and continues to change. 

Somehow this writing on the wall feels right. 

Naming that for which we are thankful. 
Maybe it's because we're writing on a wall!
 Or maybe it's causing us to step into gratitude. 
Where ever you are today, may you find something to be thankful for. 


Psalm 107:1
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.

He Made Me Laugh

He made me laugh. 

That second born son. 

The one who shoulders the weight. 

The future. 

He made me laugh. 

He loves Christmas.

Always has. 

Little sleep. 

So excited. 

A bundle of joy. 

Energy. 

Complying with my request, for a cup of coffee, before presents, on Christmas morning;
 he will have one waiting. . . long before it is time to be awake. 

Energy. 

Sheer joy. 

Over presents.

Over a babe in a manger.
Wonder. 

Contagious. 

And at 15 that joy is still there. 

I walk into the dining room after my shower. . . and I can hear it. 

And deep down I can feel the joy. 

He has turned on the Christmas music. 

Not just any Christmas music. 

Gene Autrey. . .Brenda Lee. 

Nana's favorite kind. 

The songs stir within a plethora of emotions.

Too early you say? 

Is it? 

Is it too early to rejoice in a gift given?
To find joy amid deep pain.
To take the mundane and turn it around?
I don't think so. 
And when that man/boy plays the Christmas music.
I know deep within there is still a boy.
There is still the pure delight in the age old magic of that starlit night;
when the holy touched the earth.

Isaiah 9:6
For unto us a Child is born,
Unto us a Son is given;

Remembering The Promise

The wind blows. 

It stirs me awake. 

I want to snuggle down and stay in bed. 

Some days I don't want to get up. 

This is one. 

I sigh under the weight of remembering. 

I fling my thoughts heavenward. 

I get coffee. 

This life is hard. 

The darkness hovers now; earlier. 

My favorite time of year. 

I want to see beauty yet marred by deep sadness.  

Plans are hard to make. 

So much clutters my mind. 

Time marching forward. 

Moving further and further from the accident. 

Further from my son. 

Yet closer to him too. 

Yielding more to Christ. 

The clouds roll in angry and threatening. 

The mountain is concealed. 

The wind; refreshing. 

There's going to be a storm. 

The air heavy with anticipation. 

 I want to anticipate the day. 

Yield to all that it will be. 

I am flinging the doors to the farmhouse wide. 

Letting in this breeze. 

Allowing it to wash over me. 

Resting in the finished work on the cross. 

The work already accomplished. 

Finding my way one step of grace at a time. 

Even in the storm there is a promise. 

It's The Receiving That Is So Hard

He's here. 

 A man who offered to pray for our family 1600 miles away. 

He has connections and mutual friends here in the area. 

He prayed. 

During those long months of chemo and radiation and dense fog. 

He prayed; for us.  

When I could barely put a foot in front of the other. 

He prayed. 

He sent encouraging e-mails. 

A stranger. Now friend. 

Brothers and sisters in Christ. 

He wanted to do something. 

Something for us. 

We didn't know what to say. 

And now he's here. 

How do you say anything when a community and town have already

 carried you on the wings of grace?

How do you answer when the only thing you really want you can't have?

Aren't we that kind of people?

Always wanting what is just out of reach. 

Wanting the thing we can't have, and forgetting all that is before us. 

Missing all the grace because we do not have eyes to see. 

Mark 8:18

Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? 

And don't you remember?

Jesus is reminding his people of the things He has already done. 

Ways he has already provided. 

He wants us to remember. 

He led the wandering Israelite's out of Egypt. 

He brought them to the promised land. 

He did what He said He would do. 

We need to be faithful. 

We need to remember His promises. 

Never ending promises. 

I am not sure if I can receive more grace. 

It's a different kind of grace than the touch from above when you 

realize the sacrifice made for your sin, sick soul.  

It's more public. 

It's humbling. 

One who gave grace to our family, gave with His life.

I miss him. 

Now too, residing with the King of Kings. 

That still rakes me hard in my core; each day. 

Overwhelming. 

Wrestling with the purpose and intent in all that has ensued.

So this dear man is here. 

Along with others. 

Grace will visit this farm again. 

Unmerited. 

Undeserved. 

My soul is changing. 

I understand grace more than I ever have. 

I am grateful for that. 

I am grateful to God for his never ending mercies. 

I am. . . holding on to Him. 

David Crowder I Am

". . .There's no end to Amazing Grace."

I Am Holding On to you

I am holding on to you

In the middle of the storm

 I am holding on

I am 

Love like this oh my God so fine

I am overwhelmed with the joy divine

Love like this sets our hears on fire. 

I Am Found

Each day I read last years post. 

Counting down the days of his life.

Searching for meaning. 

Something I have missed. 

Like an addict looking for a hit. 

I want to see something. 

I long for just a glimpse. 

It consumes me; if I let it. 

How I want to touch or feel something connected to him. 

These final days of his life. 

He would live for 19 more days. 

That is it. 

I didn't know.
My son. Full of hope; a future. 

We were mourning the loss of our puppy. Still grieving my mom,
 my parents dog,  my dad's sister and a long time family friend. 

Caught in a sea of emotions. 

Searching.
It happened in a moment.
I wasn't there.
For a moment I feel so lost. 

But I am found. 
Amazing Grace. 

My search completed long ago. 

Bought, sought and paid for by the King. 

My soul; ransomed. 

I am pressed in but NOT crushed.

2 Corinthians 4:8-9
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, 
but not in despair;persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.

With that purchase of my soul, I have the hope of eternal life. 
I rest in the assurance that Elijah stands with the King of Kings. 
I know where he is. 
His life; with purpose, was finished.
I don't like it.  
I long for the course planned for me to be different. 
It is not.
This is the walk placed before me.
I am not abandoned. 
I am not destroyed. 

I have been found, rescued. 

I take my eyes off the focus of me. 

I place them on the Light that shatters the darkness. 

I walk in immeasurable hope. 

I cling to promises made long ago by a God who will never let us down. 

I may never see or understand his plan this side of eternity. 

But oh, what waits for us in glory is the joy I am clinging to. 

No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging.
It sounds an echo in my soul
How can I keep from singing?

Pete Seeger   

How can I keep from Singing