Saying, "Yes", When You Want to Scream, "No"

Elijah. 

They say his name. 

Cleaning out a closet they find something that was his. 

Elijah. 

I just want to hear his name called. 

I miss saying it. 

You see when your son is taken. 

Things change. 

So when they mention his name. 

My heart skips a beat. 

17 years of memories. 

His future just beginning. 

Hope. 

I long for that which I can not have. 

We're going to the drive in. 

A place I have avoided. 

A place I have tried to find excuses not to go. 

So far. 

It's worked. 

This time. 

There was no easy way to say no. 

My friend asked if we wanted to go. 

Our families. 

Together. 

Feeling brave. 

I said, "yes".

Later my friend, so sensitive,

 recognized that this might be hard. 

I told her it was ok. 

It is ok to journey to the the last place my son went. 

The drive in.

The night he never came home. 

He couldn't find his debit card. 

I raided our "laundry money". 

He was so excited. 

His girl friend was home. 

He hadn't seen her in weeks. 

July 27. 

He went. 

Never to return. 

His bed empty. 

A heart ache that never ends. 

My life forever changed. 

Here I am. 

Almost 3 years later. 

He is not here. 

He resides with the King of All Kings. 

And I miss him. 

I get tired of the missing. 

I get tired of wanting our family to be whole. 

In so many ways the LORD has reached down and soothed that ache. 

He has allowed me much grace to walk this road. 

He has never left our side. 

His presence felt when the way is hard. 

 Yet this I fight against. 

The driven in. 

I don't want to do this. 

This is a place I do not want to go. 

Isn't that the way? 

We fight what we need to go through. 

The pain of growing. 

Becoming more like him. 

That's all I've ever wanted. 

Was to be like Him. 

A heart that yields. 

A life well lived. 

So, I will go. 

I will do yet another hard thing. 

This missing is hard work. 

Because you spend your time trying not to miss. 

Trying to be whole. 

Oh how sweet the LORD is as he reaches down and comforts us. 

When we do the hard thing,

 God shows up in ways we could not imagine. 

He offers grace. 

We made new memories at the drive in. 

Ones I will cherish forever. 

Grab hold of the journey God has placed you on. 

He will guide your steps. 

He's never promised it would be easy. 

But he has promised to travel with you. 

Don't be afraid of the hard things. 

Stop putting off what needs to be done. 

He will carry you when you can't go further. 

He will hold you like no other. 

You are held. 

He will reach the deepest parts and fill them with His Holy Spirit. 

Standing on those promises today. 

And a lot of coffee. 

Because going to the drive in means a late night.

Won't you join me? 

Standing on those promises? 

Exodus 14:14

The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."

Natalie Grant

Held

"Who told us we'd be rescued

What has changed and

Why should we be saved from nightmares

Were asking why this happens to us

Who have died to live, it's unfair

This is what it means to be held

How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life

And you survive

"That the promise was, when everything fell,

We'd be held..."

Forced Seclusion Begins a Much Needed De-Cluttering

I'm forced to seclusion.

My allergies overpowering. 

My air conditioned bedroom; my reprieve.

Haying, lawn mowing, beautiful blossoms;

all causing me discomfort. 

So, I head to my bedroom. 

On a gloriously sunny day. 

I am forced to look at the clutter. 

The piles of clothes. 

The boxes of paper. 

Most of it needing to go. 

I begin the process. 

Cards sent when our world shattered. 

When our first born son was called to glory at 17. 

When cancer threatened to take a good man down. 

When the joy thief knocked harshly on my farmers door. 

Cards of encouragement. 

Cards with gifts and letters sharing stories. 

I hold these in my hand. 

I remember little from this time. 

I don't want to part with these cards. 

Lists of thank you's to write.

Never written. 

Because how do you thank 100's of people?

Notes from meals left on our door step. 

Unknown. 

These papers slip through my fingers to the recycling. 

I think on that time. 

I allow the grief to wash over me. 

I clear a space on the floor. 

It's been two years since I have seen that space. 

I feel a bit lighter. 

I continue through the box. 

I find the thank you notes Elijah had written and not sent. 

His handwriting. 

So unique. 

The tears well. 

I want to stop. 

I feel overwhelmed with the enormity of the amount of clutter. 

The memories. 

 I continue on. 

I must.

The mess and the clutter in this room are weighing me down. 

I am a prisoner; held by clutter and things. 

Held by dust and and the inability to vacuum or walk safely. 

This is agonizing. 

I want to hold on to these cards forever. 

I want to go back. 

I want my son back. 

I want my world to be normal again. 

Before death. 

Before cancer. 

When we were whole and intact. 

I let the tears flow. 

I think about Elijah. 

Oh, how I miss him. 

This seems so cruel. 

The loss of a child. 

I get to the bottom of the box. 

I have found 2 gift cards given to us. 

I have read words of beautiful encouragement. 

Strength; in words. 

Strangers. 

Friends. 

All holding us close. 

I reach the end of the second box. 

The piles; diminishing. 

I save a few things and find a home for them. 

I hang clothes and throw away ripped items. 

I let go of recycling and reusing for a few minutes. 

The guilt is overwhelming. 

But I persevere. 

This needs to be done. 

I continue to read cards sent from all over. 

My soul finds peace. 

I breathe deeply the reminder that God will never leave us nor forsake us. 

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.

Words that I have listened to over and over. 

Words that I have read and been strengthened by. 

My allergies have calmed down. 

I continue to sort through the piles. 

Day by day and moment by moment I will conquer this clutter. 

I begin to let go of the things that have controlled me for so long. 

It's been good to go through this de-cluttering process.

I will continue to press on in this journey. 

Philippians 3:14
I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called
 me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Reconstructing

Reconstructing. 
Each day. 
How to do dinner. 
What the table looks like. 
His car in the driveway. 
All how to live without my son. 
Each day.
Learning. 
The path. 
God has ordained. 
Not my will. 
But His. 
And so I learn. 
While my heart misses. 
I open my heart to the will of the Father. 

A young teen plays Elijah's drum set at church.
A young man unaware of the story.

Playing to Worship. 
The same God. 

All for His Glory. 

So I learn, to trust more. 
Rest where there is chaos. 
Quiet when the screams seek to find a voice. 
Peace given. 

A purpose beyond what I can see. 

The Boys

The farm boy; my only boy. 

I used to say boys. 

A moment; forever changed. 

My brothers, always called "the boys."

Mom's words echo;
 "have you talked to the boys?" 

Grown men with families. 
The boys.

Naturally I began to call my sons; 

the boys. 

I loved calling them that. 

I loved having 2 boys. 

They fought. 
Tousling. 
Angry. 
Dominance. 
Fists clenched. 
War.
Strength. 

Awful. 

Until. 

Maturity. 
Alliance. 

Friendship.

Early on it was as cohorts against public enemy number one;

Mom. 

An alliance while playing video games. 

Competition. 

This beautiful interaction was just beginning. 

When it ended. 

Now, there is one. 

He wrestles with this new role. 

Oldest boy. 

Only boy. 

He walks the stairs each night past the closed door. 

Past the silence. 

Each time molding and shaping who he is becoming. 

You see this farm boy; made a choice. 

He entered the waters of baptism. 

He aligned himself with the living God. 

And the enemy of our souls reared. 

The farm boy went head to head with challenge after challenge. 

His brothers death left him vulnerable. 

He rebelled and fought. 

Until he made a choice. 

To surrender to that baptism. 

To stand strong in the face of opposition. 

This mama and a slew of others bowed low. 
Digging deep. 
We worked. 
On our knees;
 Interceding for this amazing young man. 

And he shed that skin of discontentment. 

He threw off the chains that brought him down. 

Step by step he is yielding; submitting to the Father's will. 

It is still a painful battle. 

He misses his brother. 

He, nor any of us, understand. 

And the missing is deep. 

That farm boy is taking his energy and creativity

 and turning it into something beautiful. 

He's taking something worn down and discouraged and
 breathing into it new life. 


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.

We have a Savior who longs to do the very same for each and everyone of us. 

He sees the plan that is obscured from our view. 

He is working. 

He is doing a new thing. 

We're taking off the scales to see. 

We're reaching for hope, when all seems lost. 

I continue to not like this road. 

Yet, along the way I don't want to miss the beauty that awaits. 

My purpose is beyond what I can see. 

My worn down, discouraged self is stepping out and seeking the new thing. 

I want to be refreshed and given new eyes to see. 

Not in my own strength but always in his. 

Won't you take this journey with me? 

Psalm 91:4
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; 
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

Listening Day #10 of Thankfulness

She contacts me on face book. 

She found a recording of his voice from a history project. 

She laughed and cried when she heard it. 

She wondered if I would like her to send it to me. 

I breathe deep. 

Another recording of his voice. 

Another piece. 

Yes. 

Yes, I would love another opportunity to hear his voice. 

To listen to my sweet, sweet son. 

I play the recording. 

The deep places of my mommy's heart ache.

Oh how I miss him. 

He was so articulate. 

Always. 

His first word ex-ca-va- tor.

Yes. 

Truth. 

No da da for him. 

I continue to listen. 

There is back round noise so I have to listen intently. 

Carefully. 

I seek out the inflection; wonder at his hand motions-there was a piece of me in him- and picture his facial expressions as he spoke. 

I listen intently. 

So much of our life requires us to listen intently. 

To hear the speaker. 

Dig deeper for what is being said. 

Trying to understand our children. 

Attempting to decipher angry co workers words. 

Listening.

Hearing. 

Understanding. 

It is an Art. . . to listen. 

God calls us to enter in. 

To listen for his voice. 

Carefully. 

Purposefully. 

It takes time. 

There is waiting. 

There is heart ache. 

There is joy. 

John 19:27

My sheep listen to my voice; 

I know them, and they follow me.

May we all take to time listen to those around us. 

To seek God's will for the ways in which we should meet needs. 

Help a friend. 

Serve in some way. 

Spend time listening to His voice today to guide you. 

To lay down your burden. 

To be set free. 

He is always there. 

He neither slumbers nor sleeps. 

Psalm 121:3-4

He will not let your foot slip-- he who watches over you will not slumber;indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

He will guide us. 

He will show us where to serve. 

If we would only listen.

~ 30 Days of Thankfulness~

I am thankful for:

The gift of hearing my sons voice

Being able to hear

My sons friends who still remember

a new pastor and wife who are digging deep

a church body that prays; we are not perfect but with grace and mercy we step into God's ways

A season of Thanksgiving

10 more sleeps until the college girl is home

a gorgeous view of the mountain 

time to spend in God's word

correction and growth

a God who loves me and forgives my wretched soul

my farmer who works so hard each day

my girls who get up in the mornings to help their daddy

a farm boy that loves music and Jesus

 the two farm girls that are off the farm and making their way in this world

the farmette and the joy she brings

the hope of a new farmette and all she will bring

the naming of my gratitude; may it change me and grow my being to be more cognitively aware of the good around me

a sister in law who walks with grace and beauty through the trials of this life

May you seek to listen today. 

For the joy. 

For the broken. 

“There is a kind of listening with half an ear that presumes already to know what the other person has to say. It is an impatient, inattentive listening, that despises the brother and is only waiting for a chance to speak and thus get rid of the other person. This is no fulfillment of our obligation, and it is certain that here too our attitude toward our brother only reflects our relationship to God. It is little wonder that we are no longer capable of the greatest service of listening that God has committed to us, that of hearing our brother's confession, if we refuse to give ear to our brother on lesser subjects. Secular education today is aware that often a person can be helped merely by having someone who will listen to him seriously, and upon this insight it has constructed its own soul therapy, which has attracted great numbers of people, including Christians. But Christians have forgotten that the ministry of listening has been committed to them by Him who is Himself the great listener and whose work they should share. We should listen with the ears of God that we may speak the Word of God.”  (emphasis mine)

 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Christian Community

Peanut Butter Pie

Peanut Butter Pie. 

Sometimes it's what we need. 

A little baking. 

A plan. 

Some sunshine. 

Sometimes, life is not what we expected  

We can not give in to the despair and sadness. 

It fights to pull us under. 

Threatens to undermine our joy. 

So, make a pie. 

Spread some sunshine. 

Do one thing you know you should. 

And above all else. 

Give thanks. 

 Psalm 107:1

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; 

his love endures forever.

Our hope is not in the temporal things of this earth. 

They are all fleeting. 

Our hope lies in One who has sacrificed all so we might live. 

To that hope, we cling. 

Fighting today to remain in the everlasting arms. 

Grateful for hope. 

 Because when the missing grabs hold and the ache so heavy. 

The only thing left to do is open the hands and rest in the power of the Holy One. 

David Crowder

I Am

Monday Musings

He talks about a heart change. 

About the bubbling that can spew from our mouths; a condition of our hearts. 

Another speaks of having every thought held captive. 

And my heart sours. 

These young people. 

So many. 

Once the youth in bible study and youth group. 

Now parents of small children. 

And I am taken back to the time when they were younger. 

How I loved their digging deep; their probing questions. 

And now here. 

When they are grown. 

Digging deep together. 

This is a gift. 

I usually teach. 

Not a student. 

I haven't attended a Sunday School class in 15 years. 

Teaching; my gift. 

My desire. 

My passion. 

But a son snatched from this earth and the 
diagnosis of cancer stifled any thoughts of teaching. 

Sundays painful. 

Barely wanting to attend church. 

The questions. 

The music. 

The whole families. 

Mine broken. 

Missing. 

Hurting. 

Death knocking, knocking. 

Now, a year later. 

Cancer prayerfully on the other side of the wall. 

A different way of living without the oldest farm boy. 

Sunday School seems to be an option and after the holidays we take the plunge. 

We face the crowd.

The stares. 

Only to find. 

Warmth. 

Digging deep. 

Hope. 

Intense study of God's word. 

Hebrews 4:12
For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.

The gift of all these young people.

These young people who have returned to the church of their youth. 

To unwrap scripture. 

I gaze around the room. 

Multigenerational. 

I breathe deep.

Mark 8:18
Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? 
And don't you remember?

We have to keep our eyes open to see the beauty. 
To capture the gifts. 

They are there. 

Each day. 

Each moment. 

Have you seen one today? 

Those Ancient Words

.

The Ancient Words

Helping. 

Spreading hope. 

Our compass. 

Guiding and encouraging. 

Truth. 

And a reminder in a song. 

Those words are holy. 

Handed down through generations. 

Faithful ones, sharing their journey. 

Changing us. 

Molding us into the children we were created to be. 

The sustenance in my life. 

Evermore so these past 17 and a half months. 

When time stopped.

The Ancient Word breathing life. 

Word by word. 

Though by thought. 

Reminder by reminder. 

The Captain at the helm. 

Guiding.

Steering toward the end. 

The final walk,

Life eternal. 

Forever in Glory. 

Michael W. Smith

Ancient Words

If He Asks, Are You Willing To Do The Hard Thing?

Most mornings I still wake with a longing for things to be different. 

The piercing ache still very present. 

Images of my red head running through my mind. 

Reconciling the reality. 

His life here, on this earth, finished. 

My life continuing. 

Striving to push against the tide that will threaten to pull me under. 

2014 is coming to a close. 

A year that never held my son. 

A year we battled cancer. 

A year we walked on the wings of grace and mercy of friends and community. 

A year where the God of the Universe never let us go. 

A year where faith as small as a mustard seed grew as

 the Ancient word spilled life into my weary soul. 

A year where a little child led us. 

With love never known before. 

I don't have much to show for 2014. 

I can't expound on great theological truths or fantastic accomplishments. 

Most of it passed in a blur. 

I can only say we made it through. 

With grace, we placed one foot in front of the other. 

We kept our feet planted. 

We raised our hands to the living God. 

And by His grace we are here. 

Our souls are still weary. 

The land of this farm still cries out for its farm boy. 

The movement of our family still stilted as we carry on without one. 

Yet, we long for all of this to bring us closer to the cross. 

For all to know the power of the One who gave once. . . for all. 

I can not bring Elijah back. 

These pictures. . . .these pictures are all I have left. 

I see my boy through videos or pictures. 

And the memories etched forever in my being. 

But I can shout from the mountain tops that He is with our Savior. 

That his life was important because each and every day God deemed his steps. 

We can look to the future because God calls us forward. 

Jeremiah 29:11

For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord. 

Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future. 

Jeremiah was a prophet of the Lord.

Unfortunately, his job was difficult. 

The words of his prophesy were devastating and depressing. 

The nation of Israel would be sent into captivity. 

The people long had been warned. 

They needed to turn from their wicked ways.

But they couldn't. 

The pull of temptation too great. 

They would suffer the effects of the prophesy. 

But see, the Lord didn't end the prophesy with doom and gloom. 

He told those people to submit to the circumstances. 

Walk into captivity. 

Sometimes walking through the hard is what helps us see the good. 

Because God is in the business of changing and restoring. 

Jeremiah 29:14

I will be found by you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile."

You see, even while the Israelites  were in captivity,

God was doing a beautiful thing. 

He was restoring a people. 

A nation. 

Our life circumstances can be hard. 

2014 may not have been the best year for you. 

Death, cancer, financial ruin may have been your path. 

But God is in the wilderness with you. 

He is doing a new thing. 

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.

And while I long for Elijah and life before. 

I am going to be open to see where God leads. 

I will breathe deep the Ancient Promises. 

I will declare the praises due His name. 

My heart will be restored. 

He will make my way. 

Lauren Daigle

How Can It Be? 

You plead my cause

you right my wrongs.